Claude fell to the ground clutching his wrist, in such pain he wished he could die, screaming obscenities, "Oh...shit..."
Matilda Jenkins said lightly, "If you want the other one to break too, just keep cursing."
"..." Claude's voice abruptly stopped, his head covered in sweat from the pain, his face flushed, not daring to make another sound.
Just now, Matilda's strength made it impossible for him to struggle. He was already worn out from years of indulgence in alcohol and marijuana. His body, though young, was almost hollowed out, unable to withstand Matilda's strength.
Mrs. Morrison watched coldly. Seeing Claude with a broken wrist by Matilda, though her face showed nothing, her eyes quickly flashed a schadenfreude smirk. She had long been extremely disgusted with this nephew of her husband, but unfortunately, she was an elder, her husband said nothing, so as an aunt, naturally, she couldn't say anything either.
