Chapter 12
Olivia’s pupils contracted sharply. When she saw the people barging in and immediately started smashing things, her legs went weak with fear as she had never witnessed such a scene before.
The mobs, who were carrying sticks, began smashing the shoe cabinet near the entrance. With a few strikes, the cabinet was completely destroyed, and the men even vented their frustration by kicking shoes all over the room.
Their mission was simple: to make her live in constant fear and to make it impossible for her to stay in Dynea.
They planned to come back and smash everything again in a few days. Meanwhile, their boss had given the order that they could do whatever they wanted as long as no one was killed.
However, just as they were about to continue further inside, two men suddenly blocked their way.
“I thought there was only her and the old woman? Why are there two more men now?” one of the mobs asked.
The red-haired one disdainfully replied, “It’s just two people. What’s there to be afraid of? Smash them as well!”
These ruffians were incredibly arrogant. After all, not only did they want to destroy things, but they also attacked people. Though Olivia was unsure whether these were Blaine’s or Mike’s men, she immediately ran to the living room table and picked up her phone to call the police.
The red-haired thug saw her actions and immediately rushed toward her. However, Branden reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pushing him away forcefully.
Due to the considerable strength, the thug stumbled. He might have already fallen if it were not for the mobs behind him.
“Damn it, go to hell!” The red-haired thug spat and snatched the stick from the nearby blond thug, charging forward.
Branden’s face turned cold as he raised his hand to intercept the red-haired thug’s wrist, saying coldly, “Let me send you all to hell!”
With that, he forcefully twisted the thug’s hand, causing him to emit a terrible scream. The stick in his hand dropped to the ground, and Branden skillfully caught it, kicking the thug away.
A hint of surprise flashed through the eyes of Jack, who was observing from the side. Then, he took a few steps back, giving them space.
Upon seeing this, the red-haired thug’s companions rushed toward Branden, thinking he could not fight them all alone, no matter how formidable he was. With the advantage in quantity, they were certain about victory.
Branden, nonetheless, remained calm in the face of so many people. A long-lost coldness emerged in his eyes as he faced them head-on, wielding the stick.
Someone launched a surprise attack, striking the stick against his back, rendering him pause briefly.
To their surprise, it was pretty challenging for them to fight against him despite their numbers. The red-haired thug intended to join in, but there was no room for him because Branden was already surrounded.
Therefore, the thug shifted his gaze to Jack, standing nearby. He seemed to be an easy target judging from how refined and elegant he looked compared with Branden.
Picking up a stick dropped by someone, the red-haired thug rushed toward Jack, swinging the stick fiercely and swiftly.
Just as the stick was about to strike Jack’s head, the red-haired thug realized he could not swing the weapon. Then he looked up and saw the refined man holding the stick instead.
Jack calmly said, “Do you think I’m the weak one?”
The red-haired thug froze. In the next second, Jack raised his foot and kicked the thug once again, sending him flying and crashing hard onto the ground.
This time, the impact was even more severe. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and he writhed on the ground while clutching his abdomen.
Jack did not let him off easily, however. He approached the thug, placing one foot on his chest and pressing the stick against his chin. “Who sent you?”
Terrified, the thug looked at him and cursed internally. After all, this man was even more terrifying than the one before!
“You won’t talk?” With raised eyebrows, Jack, who was much more ruthless than Branden, pointed the stick toward the thug’s eye, poking through it anytime soon. He asked, “Shall I continue?”
“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” The red-haired thug screamed in panic, instinctively raising his hands to shield his eyes. Trembling, he said, “It was our boss! Our boss, Joel Richardson, owns the Royal Paradise Nightclub!”
