Chapter 253:

The tiny peppermints in Marissa’s hand seemed charged with energy. They struck the thugs with the precision of tiny bullets. Some peppermints hit their eyes, others their noses, chests, and even flew directly into their mouths

“Ah!” the thugs screamed, collapsing to the floor in pain. Daryl and Shaun, ready to confront the thugs, halted abruptly, their mouths agape in disbelief at the unfolding scene. They had braced themselves for a risky confrontation, yet here they were, witnessing the thugs being incapacitated by a girl wielding nothing more than candies

Not only were Daryl and Shaun taken aback, but the waitresses observing from the sidelines were equally astonished. Employed at the Brando Hotel, they were accustomed to seeing Charles strut around with his thugs and the ensuing brawls. However, they had never seen anything like this

They had assumed that Marissa would end up crying and begging for mercy. Instead, she had floored everyone with mere candies, as though straight out of a movie

The recent rumors had hinted that she was a fiery-tempered girl with some martial arts prowess. Now, having seen it with their own eyes, they realized she didn’t just have a bit of martial arts skill—she was exceptionally powerful. Kyler, who had been smugly planning to take revenge once the thugs had subdued Marissa, stood there utterly dumbfounded

opens doors

anger intensified as he barked at the waitresses, “What are you just standing there for? Go and inform Mr.

rough up the Sanchez family members severely upon their arrival, then bring them up to him. By that point, he was confident it wouldn’t take much to coerce them into signing the contract. Glancing at his watch, Charles sensed it was

room, panting. “Mr. Acosta, there’s a problem!” Charles’ expression grew stormy, the scar on his right cheek looking even

to steady herself before speaking. “Mr. Acosta, the Sanchez family has arrived. They’ve beaten Kyler so badly he was spitting blood, and our other six men are

just say?” Charles rose from his chair, his eyes darkening with fury.

son

“Only three of them?”

“Yes, just those three.”

“Daryl is merely a painter, Shaun a frail scholar, and Tiffany, she’s just a girl. How could just three of them

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