“Idiot—you’re begging to die.” Murder flared in Felix Irving’s eyes as he stared at Adrian Doyle. His own life was in ruins; no matter the cost, Adrian had to die.
“Madman.” Daisy’s voice was cool but tight with urgency.
The alcohol had burned off. She was once again the aloof woman no one dared approach—except her chest rose and fell a little too fast, worry betraying her.
“Mr. Jefferson is the mafia’s golden enforcer,” Felix sneered. “If he doesn’t kill you, he’ll cripple you. Since you love showing off, Adrian Doyle, go die for it.”
If Adrian had stayed in the car and called the police, he might have had a sliver of a chance. But the fool had stepped out, all to look brave for Daisy.
The thought buoyed Felix. A feverish gleam lit his eyes. He could hardly wait to watch Adrian beaten to death.
“Adrian!” Daisy couldn’t watch him walk into slaughter. “Get back in the car. I’ll shield you—they won’t dare touch me.”
“Relax.” Adrian rolled his right shoulder. The debt of a broken arm would be repaid—with interest—tonight.
Felix snorted. “Still bragging at a time like this. You really do have a death wish.”
“Ten seconds to drop all four of us?” Mr. Jefferson barked a laugh. “Last time I cracked your arm. Today I’ll break all four limbs and make you crawl like a dog.”
He’d spent over a decade licking blood from knives; to him, crushing Adrian was no different from crushing an ant.
He didn’t waste words. One chop of his hand, and the four men lunged in unison.
Pipes and blades came whistling toward Adrian.
Daisy blanched and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Finish him!” Felix’s gaze burned, rapt with anticipation.
Adrian moved—swinging his right arm, still wrapped in plaster.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Clashes rang out in a rapid volley.
Mr. Jefferson froze, stunned.
The pipe in his grip had snapped; pain blew up his forearm. His men’s weapons were also shattered. Adrian stood where he’d been—untouched.
“How… how the hell did you do that?” Mr. Jefferson blurted, shaken to the core.
“Tonight you get to taste a broken arm,” Adrian said—and blurred.
Crack. Crack.
Bones popped like dry twigs. Mr. Jefferson’s right arm was wrenched out of use; the other three suffered the same fate.
Screams tore the air.
The four brutes writhed on the asphalt, howling, shards of white bone jutting into the night.
Silence fell over the lot—unnatural, ringing.
What had just happened? Not ten seconds—barely five—and Mr. Jefferson’s crew lay ruined at Adrian’s feet.
“Impossible,” Felix croaked, eyes bulging.
“Your turn.” A cool smile touched Adrian’s mouth. He looked at Felix. “Kneel. Knock your head. Apologize.”
Felix’s eye twitched. “Don’t push me too far, Adrian.”
“Too far?” Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “When you crowned me with horns, did you think of today? When you boxed me out at work, did you think of today? When you paid to have my arm smashed, did you think of today?”
“I…” Felix’s throat closed. Adrian wasn’t the malleable pawn he’d once toyed with. Not anymore.
Clarity came in a cold rush: Adrian had just broken four men’s arms. Killing Felix would be easy.
Felix’s knees gave. He dropped, babbling, “Mr. Doyle, I was wrong. Don’t hit me.”
Thud. Adrian answered with a kick.
This time he didn’t hold back.
Felix sailed across the pavement. His organs churned; ribs snapped; blood slicked his lips.
Adrian didn’t spare him another glance. He slid into the car and started the engine.
“Your right arm’s fine? And you fight like that, yet you let me worry for nothing.” The voice beside him was haughty, cool.
Adrian only smiled.
“Garden Villas. And hand me my phone from the passenger side.” Daisy’s tone was imperious.
“Am I your chauffeur? The word please wouldn’t kill you.”
She folded her arms. “Please bring me my phone from the passenger side.”
Adrian: “…”
At last they pulled up to the house.
“Young miss, you’re back.” The butler hurried out. Perhaps it was his imagination, but her legs seemed to tremble.
When he saw Adrian step out from the driver’s seat, his eyes widened. “And this is…?”
“A hired driver,” Daisy said—too quickly. She flicked a look at Adrian. “You can go.”
Then she glided toward the villa.
The butler watched her gait, then glanced at Adrian, something curious in his eyes.
Inside, Daisy found Cameron Hill smoking, a clouded brow carved into his face.
“You’re home,” he said, crushing the cigarette and heaving to his feet, guilt raw in his voice. “What happened today… that’s on me. I misjudged him. I failed you.”
Daisy’s expression flickered. Her stern father, apologizing? Shame pinched her. Giving herself to Adrian to spite her father suddenly felt childish.
“Daisy,” Cameron said after a pause, “someone from the Sanders family came by.”
“What?” Color drained from her face. “What did they want?”
Russell Sanders had long coveted Daisy’s beauty, pressuring and bribing the Hill family for her hand. She’d rushed the wedding to Felix in part to cut Russell off. Clearly, word of the debacle had reached him.
Cameron gave a bitter smile and tossed an invitation on the table. “Three o’clock tomorrow. Their company. Odds are they’ll try to force you to marry Russell.”
“I won’t.” The thought of marrying someone ten times filthier than Felix made her stomach knot.
Cameron sighed. “Marcus Sanders—Russell’s uncle—is brother to the wife of Skyline City’s richest man, Hunter Logan. With Hunter gravely ill, Marcus is using Logan Group to squeeze us. We have no leverage. Unless…”
“Unless what?” Daisy asked, breath caught.
“Unless we find a man to pose as your husband—or fiancé—and stall them for time. If Hunter recovers, we won’t have to bow to the Sanders family anymore.”
“I heard Hunter’s terminally ill… can he really recover? And even if he can, where do we find the right man to play my husband on such short notice?” As she spoke, Adrian’s face, unbidden, rose in her mind.
“You’re right—the choice won’t be easy,” Cameron said. “I’ve arranged for a few acceptable candidates to pretend to be your fiancé. They’ll come by tomorrow morning. You can pick the best—Daisy? Daisy!”
“Hm?”
“You drifted off. Do you have someone better in mind?” He held her gaze, searching.
She looked away, flustered.
She had been about to suggest Adrian—but checked herself. He was a junior employee, a tool she’d used in a moment of fury. And she wasn’t ready to expose what had happened between them.
So she shook her head. “No. I’ll go with your plan.”
Latest Chapter
Chapter 130
Jirō Saionji had already realized that the man he had just cut down was clearly a disciple from J. Ino’s karate dojo.Fury flashed across his face. “Who was it? Who dares court death like this?”Adrian spread his hands and smiled, his arrogance even more pronounced than before.“It’s not that I’m not afraid of dying,” he said lightly. “I just think endless killing is rather distasteful. How about this—kneel down, bow your heads, and admit your mistake. I might still spare your lives.”The moment Adrian finished speaking, the entire hall fell silent—no, stunned was the more accurate word.“Mr. Doyle… why are you here?”Neil Peterson spat out a mouthful of blood. After steadying himself for a moment, he looked up at Adrian again.“You should leave—now, before they make a move. These three are far stronger than J. Ino. You’ll be at a disadvantage.”He rattled it all out in one breath, gasping for air afterward, the blood foam at the corner of his mouth not yet wiped away.A warmth stirre
Chapter 129
At the Joy Hotel in Skyline City, Adrian was juggling contracts while keeping an eye on the crowd.He’d thought he could slip away once the Snow Beauty Secret launch wound down. Instead, sharp-eyed Freya had hauled him back to play pack mule.Adrian sighed and accepted his fate. The post-event signing frenzy refused to cool; every company head seemed remarkably accommodating. In a short span, he’d stacked up five or six completed contracts.Daisy was over the moon and chose to ignore Adrian’s long-suffering face.He’d lost count of his sighs. He should’ve taken the back exit, not the front. Then Freya wouldn’t have collared him so brazenly to work. No lounging, no slacking, not even a bite to eat—despair lapped at his ankles.Would someone please rescue him from this venue…His phone buzzed, a faint vibration. Adrian, moving at a leisurely crawl, fished it out. Who could possibly be calling now?A message from Ronald Peterson popped up. “Dr. Doyle, help! A few Hinoku bastards are tryi
Chapter 128
In a flash of steel and breath, those who caught Jirō Saionji’s small motion went rigid with dread—too tense even to remember their anger.Quentin Kennedy didn’t retreat. He drove straight into the gleam of the blade.Everyone saw it—he had stepped onto the field with death already accepted. The Hinoku fighters saw it too. They simply intended to kill him.The fist-wind sharpened until it stung the face.Someone cried, “Master Kennedy!” and the cry seemed to snap everyone awake. The Hinoku men weren’t merely breaking decorum—they meant to take a life in plain view.Rage lit the hall in a chain reaction, glare after glare. Jirō Saionji saw—and didn’t so much as blink.“You go too far!”“Master Kennedy—watch yourself!”“Shameless Hinoku cowards!”The world flickered—just a blur of shadow—and a thunderclap rang in their ears. In the next breath, Neil Peterson had hauled Quentin Kennedy back into the safe line.Neil’s face was calm stone as he clapped Quentin’s shoulder. He had recognized
Chapter 127
Archie Nolan’s injuries were severe. Even conscious, he was suffering. Wesley Nolan’s eyes burned red with fury. This made twice now—whether his son’s arm would be ruined was anyone’s guess. A fighter without an arm—how could that not matter?Wesley and Raymond Mitchell rose in the same breath and lunged at Ki Fujiwara with blistering speed.Jirō Saionji had no intention of letting them fight two-on-one. He drew his blade in a single motion and slashed for Raymond. The blade-wind hardened to a cutting gale; Raymond twisted away, but his left shoulder split open beneath a razor of wind, crimson soaking his shirt in a heartbeat.“Their blade-wind is vicious—watch the arcs!”Even as Wesley barked the warning, his fist skimmed for Ki Fujiwara’s face—and in that instant, Ki Fujiwara dropped straight back, hit the ground flat, then snapped upright like a sprung hinge.“Jujutsu—Hinoku jujutsu!”One of the dojo heads shouted the warning.Wesley’s expression froze; he recovered instantly and d
Chapter 126
“Bah! Shameless scum!”Ronald Peterson was seething. How had they run into such a relentless, cling-on cur with a face thicker than a city wall? If you lose, take the loss—but he’d gone and dragged reinforcements back to cause trouble. Hinoku dogs—despicable.J. Ino didn’t even bristle. He laughed, delighted. “Don’t you Novaland folks say a gentleman can wait ten years for revenge? I couldn’t wait a decade, so I brought my brothers along.”Neil Peterson snorted, dripping contempt. “You’re no gentleman, of course you couldn’t. And you crow over petty tricks like these.”“Revenge, is it? The last time you slunk in here to take advantage, the only reason you left breathing was our mercy.”J. Ino’s expression didn’t shift. Instead, the burliest man behind him stepped forward. “J. Ino, which one is the master you mentioned? I’ll grind his bones to dust.”J. Ino skimmed a dismissive gaze over them. “These?”The man frowned, puzzled. “So the real expert isn’t here?”J. Ino nodded and let his
Chapter 125
The instant Neil Peterson saw them clearly, his composure fractured.“Master Griffin? Master Holden? What on earth—”Behind them stood a line of small dojo heads, some barely recognizable through the swelling, others carried in on stretchers.A throb pulsed at Neil’s temples. His instincts screamed that something had gone terribly wrong.“Mr. Peterson, we’ve all been hit by dojo challengers!”“Yes, Mr. Peterson—they didn’t even bother with words. They walked in and started swinging! I stepped up to reason with them, and they said they were here to take revenge on every dojo in Skyline City.”“My nephew was beaten within an inch of his life! He’s in the hospital right now—we don’t even know if he’ll make it!”Dojo challenges? Neil’s first thought was J. Ino. Had that man still not given up his grudge?Ronald took a step back. “Dad, could the one behind this ‘retribution’ be J. Ino?”Father and son were thinking the same thing. But the word “they” made Neil suspect it wasn’t that simple
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