Miss Josefina: Nobody's Princess

A group of rough-looking guys knelt on the ground, surrounded by an intimidating crowd with murder in their eyes. The fear was palpable. They could tell these weren't your average street thugs but something akin to mercenaries.

Oliver swung his baseball bat onto the wounded arm of one, a wicked smirk playing at the corner of his eyes. The man yelped in pain but didn't miss a beat trying to defend himself. "We didn't lay a finger on her, man! She's just... she's just too much."

Cradling his arm, the man seemed to realize that Oliver was completely hoodwinked and in the dark about Josefina's true capabilities. "We didn't hurt her, swear! Instead, she turned us into punching bags. Look at us. We're all banged up!"

Oliver was unimpressed. "What else is new? You expect her to be the one getting hurt?"

"We took a real beating, man! She's got moves like nobody's business-a real-born fighter! I ain't never seen a woman that fierce, sir."

A cold glare shot from Oliver's eyes as he kicked the man's face, planting his foot firmly on his mouth. The man hit the floor, Oliver's shoe silencing him, a clear sign he wanted no more talk.

and he got knocked out? Birds of a feather, these two-neither one to be trifled

in fright, "We didn't touch your lady, not

feeling sorry for yourself now?

it? We had it coming. The lady's hits were poetry in motion, music to my

it coming. I just love it when your lady gives

shook his head. What a

Josefina, tossed the bat aside, and lifted his shoe from the goon's

respectfully standing by, asked,

admitted their wrongs. Couldn't they catch a break? Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website

too rough. I better tone it down. Leave 'em breathing, but you deal with the rest," Oliver decided, then

...

arrived at Josefina's home, bearing the gifts of late-night fried

found Oliver seated, a doting gaze in his eyes as he looked at her.