Alexander Blackwood let out a choked sound.

A violent shudder ran through his frame.

A cold sweat instantly broke out across his skin.

His hand clamped down on the searing agony in his arm.

But his gaze remained hardened steel.

In a flash, Alexander's foot shot out.

It connected with the thug holding the wooden stick.

The man crashed to the floor, the weapon clattering away.

An icy aura radiated from Alexander.

The remaining goons froze in place.

They were stunned by his terrifying presence.

They never expected him to withstand such a blow without crying out.

Fear and instant regret flashed across the faces of Theodore Vance's men.

Seeing the danger, they didn't hesitate.

They abandoned Theodore, scrambling for the exit.

No paycheck was worth their lives.

Theodore found the situation bitterly amusing.

He was sure that strike would cripple Alexander.

Seeing him stand firm filled Theodore with sharp disappointment.

Within moments, Theodore was nearly alone.

Only a few of his most loyal followers remained.

"What's the plan, boss?" one asked, voice tight with worry.

Theodore spat out a furious hiss. "Useless! All of you! Couldn't even take down one man."

Rage burned inside him.

His eyes locked onto Alexander with pure venom. "Fine. I'll deal with him myself."

"Boss, your shoulder injury..." the subordinate cautioned.

Theodore dismissed the concern with a wave.

He gave Alexander's injured arm a cold, calculating look. "He took a direct hit. The arm is broken. Useless. I can handle this."

Despite Alexander's proven skill, Theodore trusted his own.

He'd survived countless life-or-death situations.

He saw fresh blood welling from Alexander's wound.

It bolstered his confidence.

That arm was definitely out of commission.

Plus, Alexander had been fighting for a long time.

His energy must be severely depleted.

The more Theodore thought, the more certain he became.

He could win this.

He stepped forward, oozing false confidence. "Alexander, I must admit, I respect your skill. Your courage."

He paused, then offered a seemingly sincere proposal. "Let's settle this with a duel. The winner claims Evelyn. The loser walks away forever. Do you agree?"

Alexander's expression turned thunderous.

His voice was low and resonant. "First, Evelyn is not a prize to be won or lost. If you truly care for her, you would speak of her with respect."

Theodore let out a derisive laugh.

He was quick to mock. "Playing the nobleman now? What good is your honor if you couldn't even protect her?"

He sighed dismissively, puffing out his chest. "You're not worthy of being her husband. If she were with me, she would want for nothing. She would never be harmed."