“Perfect! He’s down. Now, finish him off!”
The leader, bald and snarling, held up his gun and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight.
A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes.
In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream-or a man’s temptation made flesh.
The bald man’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with lecherous intent.
He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn’t about to let an opportunity like this slip away.
“While you’re finishing him off, I’ll help myself to this beauty.”
He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her.
“No, please!” she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Why would I hurt a beauty like you?” he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show.
But Khloe’s hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust.
The bald man’s eyes widened in shock as blood spurted from the wound, his grip loosening.
Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which had been so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with cold determination.
What had once been a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a blood-stained rose-dark and dangerous.
“Bitch, you’re asking for it!”
The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding.
“Don’t move, or I’ll pull the pen out! He’ll bleed out on the spot!”
The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle.
At this moment, the man who had been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, gun in hand, and unleashed a hail of bullets on the stunned thugs.
He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse.
Even the bald man Khloe had held hostage collapsed in a bloody heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant.
Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the blood splatter. But her clothes and legs weren’t so lucky; they were stained with blood-sticky and warm.
“Ugh!”
The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn’t stop herself from retching, her knees buckling as she collapsed sideways.
But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man’s grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Feisty little thing, weren’t you so badass just a second ago? What happened?”
Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. “Let go of me!”
Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold.
Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points.
Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force-battle-hardened, lethal.
Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king.
Thousands of them bowed in unison.
“Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson,” the leader announced reverently.
Khloe’s breath hitched. “Are you Henrik Watson?”
Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the blood from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision.
He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could take anyone’s breath away.
His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to draw anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose.
His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz.
But more than his appearance, it was his aura-commanding, indomitable-that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. “So what if I am?”
Khloe’s eyes went as wide as saucers.
Henrik Watson-that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years.
When he resurfaced, he single-handedly seized control of the nation’s underworld, rendering him a king without rival.
In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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