Dyson's face twisted viciously, like a venomous snake pinned at its vital spot.
He stood frozen, unsure of what to do next, his hands gripping Beauty's waist tightly to prevent her from breaking free.
"Let go, Dyson!
If you release me now, I won't call the police, and he won't press charges.
But if the police arrive, there's nothing we can do to protect you."
Beauty bit down hard on her soft pink lips, her body trembling violently.
Her voice came out weak and fragile, like a frightened kitten, her wide pupils brimming with terror.
Lucas took a long stride forward, his body flashing past like lightning.
With a sharp kick, he sent Dyson crashing into the corner before wrenching Beauty free from his grasp.
Still shaken, Beauty stared at Lucas with wide eyes.
She had always known he was skilled—he trained often, his reflexes no less sharp than those of a taekwondo instructor.
But witnessing this firsthand, she realized just how formidable he truly was.
