Chapter 53

Nanson was in a panic.

Taking a beating was no big deal for him; with his resilient body, he’d bounce back in, at most, three days. But Anthea was a different story. She was delicate and petite, and it could ruin her life forever if she ended up scarred or worse.

And to make matters worse, his headstrong niece had the brains of a block of cheese. Amid all this chaos, she was acting like she owned the place.

They were doomed, completely done for.

Suddenly, the screech of tires pierced the still night.

It was Daniel coming in hot.

From a distance, he’d seen the commotion.

A bunch of brutes picking on a young girl? That was the lowest of the low.

He couldn’t just stand by. It was time to step in and be the hero.

He said, “Sherman, you stay put. I’ll go check this out.”

It was like a scene straight out of a romance novel, like the damsel in distress, her knight in shining armor, swooped in to save the day, and she fell head over heels in gratitude.

The thought had Daniel’s adrenaline spiking, and he rolled up his sleeves, ready for action.

In the backseat, Sherman placed his book of quotes upside down on his lap and peered out the window, his brow furrowed.

He could only see a silhouette, a willowy waist, and long, straight legs.

was something oddly

pendant, his

door and

Anthea let out a “tsk‘ from her

right knuckles with a series of sharp

motion, no one

Thud!

Simultaneously, Click!

car door open, and as he took in the

so–called damsel was gripping a tattooed thug by the neck with one hand and delivered

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Chapter 53

of sharp slaps to his face with the other. In no time,

away? You must

so much for the fragile damsel.

feet with one hand? Since when could she turn

secondhand pain, a hint of sympathy

his eyes as wide as saucers.

thought he was seeing things.

moment, a thug on the ground

switchblade tightly. He sprang up, aiming the knife at Anthea’s

blade’s tip reflected a chilling light

the split second of action, before Daniel could

“Wham!”

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