The Return of Raymond West.

Chapter 6

Raymond didn't answer. He just stood there, still holding Deborah, his eyes cold and unreadable.

immediately that was when the security guard tried to attack him.

However with Just a single shot he kill four of them.

However seeing what just happened, the rest guard step back.

The man raised the gun again towards Deborah, his jaw clenched, his finger tightening on the trigger.

But Raymond was already gone.

One moment he was standing ten feet away, holding Deborah. The next, he was in front of the man, his hand clamping down on the gun before the man could even react.

The man's eyes went wide.

Raymond twisted the gun out of his hand with one smooth motion, then grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground.

The man's feet kicked uselessly in the air, his hands clawing at Raymond's arm.

Raymond's voice was low, almost a whisper. “You should have stayed in the van.”

Then he threw him.

The man flew backward through the air, his body spinning, his arms flailing. He crashed into the side of one of the parked Mercedes vans with a sickening crunch. The metal dented inward from the impact. The man slumped to the ground and didn't move.

Raymond turned back toward Deborah, she was standing frozen, her hands still clutching the jacket, her eyes wide with shock.

The security guards were also frozen, staring at Raymond like they had just seen a ghost.

Deborah's secretary was the first to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. “What... what just happened?”

Raymond didn't answer. He just walked back toward Deborah, his expression calm, like nothing had happened.

Deborah took a step back, her voice shaking. “Who are you?”

Raymond stopped a few feet away from her. He looked at her for a long moment, then spoke, his voice quiet but firm.

“Someone who just saved your life. Again.”

Deborah turned to face Raymond, her eyes blazing with anger and suspicion.

“I don't trust you,” she said, her voice sharp. “I don't trust you at all. I don't know if you're working with those people. Even if you saved me—even if you claim you saved me..I still don't trust you. You just killed all those men. Cold-bloodedly. Without hesitation. So no, I don't trust you.”

She turned to the remaining security guards, her voice rising. “Arrest him. You still need to arrest him.’

The guards froze.

They looked at each other, their faces pale, their hands trembling slightly. They had seen what Raymond had done. They had watched him dodge bullets, disarm a gunman, and throw a grown man through the air like he weighed nothing.

They didn't want to be next, but an order was an order.

Slowly, reluctantly, they started moving forward, their hands reaching for their handcuffs.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?”

The voice boomed across the driveway, sharp and commanding.

Again everyone stopped.

Marcus Crane came running out of the mansion, his face flushed, his eyes wide with a mixture of panic and relief. He was breathing hard, his suit jacket slightly askew.

The security guards immediately bowed their heads ninety degrees.

Marcus stormed toward them, his voice filled with fury. “What the hell do you think you're doing? Who told you to lay hands on Mr. Raymond?”

The guards stammered, unable to form a coherent response.

Marcus ignored them and walked straight to Raymond. His expression softened immediately, relief washing over his face.

“Thank God,” Marcus said, his voice thick with emotion. “When I heard the gunshots inside the house, I ran out as fast as I could. My heart stopped. All I could think about was Deborah.” He looked at his daughter, then back at Raymond. “Thank God you're safe.”

He turned fully to Raymond, his voice filled with gratitude. “I knew you would be the only one who could save her in a situation like this. Thank God you arrived when you did. I wasn't expecting you to come so soon—that's why I called Deborah home immediately, because I was expecting you to arrive at any moment.”

Deborah stared at her father, her face a mask of confusion and anger.

“Why are you being so respectful to him?” she demanded, her voice rising. “He's a stranger! I don't trust him. You need to see the way he killed those men. He deserves to be arrested, not thanked!”

Marcus turned to her, his expression hardening. His voice was low but firm. “That's enough, Deborah. Don't say another word.”

Deborah's eyes widened. She had never heard her father speak to her like that before. He had always been patient, always understanding. But now his tone was cold, almost scolding.

“Do you actually know him?” she asked, her voice quieter now but still edged with disbelief.

Marcus nodded. “Yes. This is your husband-to-be. The man I've been telling you about. The one you're betrothed to. This is him.”

Immediately Silence followed.

Deborah's mouth fell open. Her secretary, who had been standing quietly to the side, gasped audibly.

“No,” Deborah said, shaking her head. "No way. No way am I going to marry this... this brute. This street fighter. This killer. No way.”

Marcus's face darkened. “If you think he's a brute, then you should be dead right now. If not for him, you wouldn't be standing here complaining. You need to be thankful. Tell him thank you and make things right between the two of you. Instead, you're standing here uttering nonsense.”

However Deborah stood her ground, her fists clenched at her sides. “No. I'm not going to marry him. There's no way I'm going to marry him. Never.”

Raymond spoke for the first time since Marcus arrived. His voice was calm, unbothered.

“If she doesn't want to marry me, then that's fine. I have no problem with it. I won't force anyone.”

Marcus turned to him quickly, his expression pained. “Mr. Raymond, please. This was your father's dying wish. You know that.”

Raymond's expression didn't change. “I know. But you can't force a woman to marry someone she doesn't want to marry.”

Marcus sighed, rubbing his temples. He looked at Deborah, then back at Raymond.

“This is the first time you two have met,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “She's a woman. They do this. They play hard to get. Give it two weeks. Spend some time together. If, after two weeks, she still doesn't want to marry you, then I will obey your decision. Not hers. Yours.”