There was no help at hand; whatever assistance there might be was too far away.
The blonde guy, Maurice, laughed scornfully with a look of contempt flashing through his eyes. He got hold of Angela by the
shoulders and started massaging her impudently.
“Fine, let Mr. Sanderson come. Then he can see for himself how I have my way with you.”
Thunderous laughter rose up from all around them, with everyone looking on in derisive merriment.
Angela felt both angry and worried, but her face remained defiant.
Emmeline, who had remained silent all the while, suddenly seemed to have decided on a course of action.
Raising her head, she gave Maurice an ambiguous look and said, “You’d better go now. Otherwise, you may not live to see
another day.”
“What did you say?”
Maurice gazed at her in incredulity and dismissed her words as the most hilarious joke that he had ever heard.
“Are you right in the brain?”
Maurice snorted disdainfully and drew Angela into his arms while the others attempted to do likewise with Emmeline.
“Let me go!”
Emmeline panicked and suddenly yelled at the top of her voice, “Jonathan, come and save me!”
Earlier on, she had stumbled upon Jonathan when she was taking some photographs but had intentionally kept her distance
from him then. She had been avoiding him all the while and hence, had refused to come to Durbaine with him.
However, she could not be bothered with all that now.
Hearing Emmeline’s screams, Maurice smirked. “Shout all you want. The louder you shout, the more exhilarated I am. Let me tell
you, b**ch, no one can stop me today; not even Superman.”
He had barely finished speaking when a large hand from behind him grasped him by the throat. Like the chick in the clutch of a
swooping eagle, Maurice was lifted with his feet dangling in the air.
“It doesn’t even need Superman to choke you to death.” Logan’s deep, sinister voice boomed behind him, and standing right
beside Logan was Jonathan.
Immobilized by the grip around his neck, Maurice’s eyes betrayed fear and anxiety.
He shouted, “What are you waiting for? Fight back!”
The thugs were brought to their senses and moved into action.
But did they have any idea who Logan was?
He was a hell of a fighter who had been through blood baths and massacres. These few ruffians were nothing but tiny little ants
in his eyes, all of whom he could kill with a flick of his finger.
In the blink of an eye, Maurice’s flunkeys were sprawled on the ground, all unable to get up. Some suffered dislocations, while
the more seriously injured had broken bones.
“Mr. Goldstein, what should I do with these punks? Shall I finish them off?” asked Logan casually.
“D-Don’t kill me.”
On hearing Logan’s dismissive talk of death, the thugs turned pale with fear.
In the past, they were in their element, bullying helpless, ordinary people. Faced with the real tough guy, it was to their credit that
they did not pee in their pants.
“Throw them out. They’re an eyesore,” said Jonathan impatiently with a wave of his hand.
In front of Emmeline, he did not want to spill blood.
“Get lost!” Logan gave a kick, and the ruffians turned tail and scampered off.
After they had gone, Emmeline turned to look at Jonathan with mixed feelings.
“Are you okay?” Jonathan asked indifferently.
“I-I’m okay,” replied Emmeline, her face showing some embarrassment.
“You two girls had better be more careful when traveling on your own, or you’ll be at the mercy of unscrupulous people.”
Jonathan had meant it to be sound advice, but to the girls, he seemed to be chiding them.
Angela was proud and arrogant by nature, and the color rose to her face after hearing his words.
She pouted her lips and muttered, “Tsk, what’s a few punks? If Mr. Sanderson were here, they would have been on their knees
begging for mercy.”
Before Jonathan could reply, Logan broke into a laugh. “Why don’t I get them back and wait for your Mr. Sanderson to save
you?”
Angela’s expression froze, then her demeanor became awkward.
Emmeline quietly changed the subject by saying, “I heard that there’s a famous juice bar ahead. Why don’t we try it?”
“Let’s go!”
Jonathan had not intended to be too close to them, but this was, after all, Durbaine. Should anything unexpected happen to
Emmeline, he would have to face the music with Josephine.
In a short while, they arrived at the juice bar.
This was a popular picture-perfect spot for internet influencers, and there were frequently long queues outside the door.
“There are too many people here. We may have to wait till the cows come home,” commented Emmeline gloomily.
At that moment, Angela produced a gold-colored card.
“Ta-da. This is a super exclusive VIP card given to me by Mr. Sanderson. With this, I don’t need to queue. Just wait here while I
go in to get your orders.”
She swept a defiant look over Jonathan in the act of one-upmanship.
Logan could not help smiling as he shook his head. This spoilt brat is an airhead. What’s so great about a VIP card when the
whole of Durbaine comes under Jonathan?
“Jonathan, take no notice of Angela. She’s rather stubborn by nature.” Emmeline took it upon herself to apologize on behalf of
Angela, as she knew full well what Jonathan was capable of.
Should Angela somehow offend Jonathan, she could meet with an end that was beyond imagination.
“She’s nothing but a spoilt brat who’s not worth trifling with,” replied Jonathan calmly.
At that instant, they suddenly heard the sounds of a fracas from the juice bar.
“How dare you say that my VIP card is fake? How dare you?”
Angela was standing at akimbo, her face red with anger.
The shop assistant at the juice bar explained patiently, “Madam, our shop has never issued any VIP card, and we do not have a
green lane system. Everyone has to queue.”
“Your position here is too low; that is why you don’t recognize this card. I want to see your boss!” said Angela arrogantly and with
disdain.
The shop assistant had no choice, and after a short while, a fat middle-aged man with a baldpate came over hurriedly.
After glancing at the VIP card in Angela’s hand, he guffawed loudly.
“My dear girl, I’m the boss here. You’ve been tricked. This is a fake card selling for two apiece and is mass-produced online. I
suggest you go to the end of the line and queue.”
“How can it be? How can it be fake?” Angela blushed a deep red when she heard that her VIP card was a fake, especially when
she was told off in front of so many people.
She was so embarrassed that she wished the ground would swallow her up.
After witnessing what had happened, Emmeline went up to Angela hastily and patted her on her back. “Let it go. This must be a
misunderstanding.”
Angela stamped her foot angrily and said through gritted teeth, “What misunderstanding? It’s obvious that the boss knows
nothing at all! A fake card at two apiece indeed! Can Mr. Sanderson’s card be a fake?”
Angela snorted in derision as she stared with hatred at the boss of the juice bar.