The leader of the thugs kicked the security guard in the face, blood spurted from his nose immediately and he groaned in pain, holding his face as they laughed. Ron outsmarted the men holding him at gun point. He was too swift for them and before they knew it, their guns were on the floor while they pissed their pants. “How—How did you do that?” one of them stuttered, falling back from the scene. “Don’t try to understand how. You could never.” Ron hit the side of his hand on the thug’s neck, paralyzing him and the other one moved away, picking up a baton to arm himself. The leader who held Dahlia captive squeezed the scruff of her neck which he held and she screamed, begging Ron to save her with her gaze on him. “Your face was all over the tabloids a while ago. Aren’t you married to Bella Humphrey?” the thug grinned because he had just discovered who Ron really was. “The pauper who married into wealth. I hear your job is to cook and clean for the heiress. What a useless son-in-la

The woman stood straight up like the past minute didn't happen. Ron narrowed his eyes at her, noticing the way her muscles were now tense. She turned to her bodyguards and said, "This matter would be addressed in my office. Take the three of them first. I'll see Miles Sterling and his group afterwards." Miles wore a triumphant smile. He knew he had just won the director over and he no longer had to worry about getting out of trouble. "But ma'am," the security guard held his bloody face, struggling to speak, "You can see that we are clearly not at fault. They attacked us." "Don't you get it. All of you are at fault for using violence in my school!" she snapped and Dahlia began to tremble. She was a transfer student, whose enrollment was based on a full-paid scholarship. Having a bad record with the school authorities could make her lose it and she didn't want that. Her father was just a mere guard. He couldn't afford to pay for her tuition if she lost this one and no one kne

From the moment the principal saw that he was able to effortlessly take out those kids she knew that he was the right person to make this request to. Her sister owned a bar downtown and since the grand opening of the bar, the bar and her sister have been plagued by the local gang in the area. The police have tried time and time again to put an end to their operations but it didn't prove much. Once an aspect of their operation was cut off, another one resumed under a different guise and that made the owner and her sister worried for a long while. They even gave the gang monthly stipends to appease them, but they didn’t ever seem to be satisfied with whatever they paid them. They always came back asking for more like the bar is some money printing factory. They had also employed ex-military men to serve as bodyguards, but it's either the men weren't truly ex-military or the gang was made of some sort of material that was immune to the ex-military, whichever the case might h

“How did it go with the principal? I know it’s our turn to go in now.” “The talk went well. Wanna know what was better than the talk?” Ron asked. “What?" Dahlia frowned, confused. "The look on Miles’ face when Ms. Tilly slapped him in the face after my talk with her,” Ron replied joyfully. Dahlia burst into laughter. The sound caught Ron's ears, it's been ages since he heard such a beautiful laugh. Sena and his wife were his entire life, but he had never heard anything like this. “It is safe to say that he wouldn't be disturbing you or your dad anytime soon," Ron added. "And if you are wrong?” Dahlia asked, imagining what would have become of her if this handsome knight in shining armor didn't come to her rescue or if he was just a minute late. “You can always call me. I’ll come to your rescue like today,” Ron said, patting her on the shoulder. “I'm serious though, he needs a doctor," he added. "And I just told you that we don't have the money for that,” Dahlia said, al

Ron didn't ease the pressure from the crushing. The bald man was still hellbent on playing tough and not giving out any information he had. “This is just the first phase of the waves of pain I can bring on you, so I'd advise you to tell me precisely what I want before I stop being friendly,” Ron asked, getting tired of the whole situation. Ron bent over the man and dipped his hands into his pocket, he brought out a pocket knife still sheathed. Ron smiled as ideas quickly ran through his head. "Well, have it your way," Ron said, unsheathing the knife. "Okay, okay, just chill out, man,” the bald man said, whimpering. "Look, it was nothing personal, we just had instructions to rough you up. You just pissed someone off and he wanted vengeance.” “Who ordered the hit?" The bald man swallowed hard, "You were not supposed to be this tough.” "That wasn't the answer to my question.” Ron added more force to his heel. “Okay, hold on, I'll tell you everything I know." At this point, the bal