A few bodyguards strode towards Jiao Yang. Mo Bei, fearing her father would make things difficult for Jiao Yang, grabbed the fruit knife from the coffee table and held it to her neck.
"Mo Wenxiu, I'm telling you, either you leave with your people right now, or I'll die in front of you!" She pressed harder with her fingers, "I mean what I say."
The sharp tip of the knife quickly pierced her skin, and blood began to drip out.
"Xiao Bei?!" Jiao Yang exclaimed, "Don't be rash."
Mo Bei didn't look at him, only provocatively stared at Mo Wenxiu.
Mo Wenxiu's eyes filled with fury as he looked at the blood streaming down her neck. He gritted his teeth and turned towards the door.
"Let's go!"
"Stop!" Jiao Yang called out in a low voice from behind him, "If you really love your daughter, you should let her do what she wants."
