Take My Breath Away

Matthew gave it everything he had. He struck the door with mighty kicks more than a dozen times. He'd studied fight science, so he knew how to kick with maximum effect. Each of his attacks was more powerful than a car crash. But it was all to no avail. After all, the gangsters had anticipated this. The iron door was reinforced by welded steel rebar, and while he could shatter the iron lock, they had ordered a special padlock in case he tried. The modern lock had a tensile strength of more than six tons. They wanted Matthew and Erica to burn with the house.

There was no water in the house. The previous residents pumped water from the well in the yard. Even if they could get there, it took time to pump any appreciable amount of water. But because of the iron door, they couldn't even try.

The thugs were rather thorough. They didn't want to leave anything to chance. And Erica and Matthew were at their mercy.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew turned around and hugged the woman squatting on the floor, and tried to comfort her. "Don't be afraid, Rika. Dad and Owen are on their way. We'll be okay."

Leaning against his shoulder, Erica said, "I'm not afraid as long as you're with me. But the kids..."

"Don't worry about them either. They're brilliant. If anyone could survive this, it's them!" Although Matthew tried to reassure Erica that the children would be fine, in fact, he was also worried. After all, no matter how smart the children were, they were still three years old.

Matthew was never a man to sit and wait for death. He guided Erica to a relatively safe spot. Then he racked his brain for ways to escape the blazing house.

The temperature in the room was rising. It was getting hard to breathe, which made them panic. A smoky haze filled the air, obscuring their vision and stinging their eyes. Erica took off her coat, stood up and tried to smother the fire with her coat.

Before long, the material in her coat caught fire. It was devoured and quickly burnt to ashes by the hungry flames.

Soon, Erica was overcome by a coughing fit. She coughed violently and glanced at Matthew.

Even Matthew was coughing, but he fought the urge and was desperately going from one corner to the next, trying to find a way to escape.

He was also a man, not a god. He was usually good at solving all kinds of normal problems. But now he was facing an iron door and barred

ass jar...

He arranged a sedan chair for her, and rode a horse to their marriage ceremony. In the middle of the night, he made a bowl of seafood noodles for her, watched horror movies with her, carried her upstairs, washed and dried her hair, and did everything she asked him to do without complaint.

These memories flashed through her mind. This was how he loved her. This was how she knew he loved her.

Oh, by the way, she forgot an important detail.

Paige later told her that their wedding—from reserving the venue to the bride price, the accompanying gift, the wedding dress, even the dress she would be in when the guests raised a toast to her, the wedding candy and the wedding wine—all of it was arranged by Matthew himself. He had given her the best of everything.

In the flickering light of the fire, the man kept shouting Erica's name. It was the first time she had seen him cry.

She raised her hand with difficulty, trying to touch the man she loved the most.

Kneeling on the floor, Matthew grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cheek. His voice trembled slightly as he said, "Rika, believe me. I'm gonna get you out of here. We'll be fine!"

"Matthew, you've been the best thing in my life. If I can't have you, my life won't mean anything." She was willing to die for him, if it meant he would be safe and sound. She loved him that much.

The man was sweating and out of control. He shouted at her, "You're not going to die! You can't!" At this point, he was screaming to the gods as much as her. "I won't let that happen! You hear me? Not! Gonna! Happen!"