Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 264

Normand probably drank too much that night to remember her, but his friends had no trouble recognizing her the moment they saw her again.

Still sore about losing face last time-when they'd failed to make her join their drinking party-they decided to get even. In the middle of the mall, they grabbed her, dragged her into the men's restroom, and planned to teach her a lesson.

They didn't count on her carrying a butterfly knife.

Mandy lashed out before they knew what hit them. She stabbed one of them, shoved their heads into the toilet until they were coughing up dirty water, and then grabbed the toilet brush, beating them until their faces were a mess of bruises and tears.

Afterward, she dusted her hands off with a casual flick, sauntered out, and left the battered men howling in misery behind her.

But the next day, somehow, those idiots managed to dig up her school and her

name.

They threatened her if she didn't come work as a hostess at their bar, they'd make sure she'd never survive another day at Cresthaven.

So, for the third time, their paths crossed-this time back at the bar.

In a plush private lounge, the coffee table was stacked with bottles of liquor. Normand and his friends grinned smugly and gestured toward them. "If you can finish all fifty bottles, we'll wipe the slate clean," they said, certain Mandy would be scared enough to give in.

They didn't know Mandy at all.

Mandy was a lunatic.

threatened her, she was ready to

way was she going

they could react, she grabbed a bottle and

knife and

not someone you can

I'll be willing to kill you tomorrow. Call the cops if you want, but you better be ready for

guys were all spoiled heirs from Cresthaven's wealthiest families. They'd spent their lives bullying others, never once imagining someone would dare fight back-let alone a woman who could

kids are afraid of

the last

beatings and a death threat, the three trust-fund brats vanished from public

were masochists, or maybe they just couldn't help themselves, but now they spoke of Mandy with a mix of terror and awe. They

they gossiped in private, they never dared call her anything

as she pulled out her butterfly knife. She spun it with practiced grace around her slender fingers, her voice as cold as steel: "Looking for

Normand's whole body tensed.

were a

frosty, beautiful face; hated her explosive temper and how

like her-so bold, so unpredictable. Compared to all the girls who'd ever tried to please him, she was

would be