"Sir… are you alright? You're bleeding, sir…" the Bodyguard's voice barked from the doorway as he rushed in.
Evelyn watched him approach with a calm, amused expression. The Bodyguard, all muscle and menace, was the sort of man who wore anger like cologne. He helped the bald man to his feet, steadying him with care.
"Wow," Evelyn said, amusingly, "You can walk already? I thought you'd need hours to regain your dignity." Her tone was light, but filled with sarcasm.
The bald man swayed, blood seeping down his temple, but his pride seemed more injured than his head.
The Bodyguard's eyes snapped to her, narrow and furious. "You!" he snarled. "You will regret this. How dare you hit him?"
"Regret?" Evelyn echoed, tilting her head. "Mister Muscle... I don't have 'regret' in my vocabulary." She let the sentence hang, smiling sharp as a blade.
He sucked in a breath, as if looking for the right threat. "Do you know who this man is? You dare to attack him? You'll end up in jail, bitch."
