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CHAPTER HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN
RICHARD’S POV

Fury bubbled inside me. I couldn't shake off the horseman's hateful words. I turned back, my fists clenched. I wasn't about to let him walk away scot-free.

I charged at him, my fist connecting with his face in a satisfying crack. The man's head snapped back, and for a moment, I felt a surge of primal satisfaction. But before I could land another punch, I felt a pair of strong arms grab me from behind,

I struggled, my rage making me fight harder, but his bodyguards weren't holding back. They pummeled me with hard punches. I tried to block and throw a few of my own, but it felt like I was fighting a losing battle.

"Get off me!" I yelled, spitting out blood and sweat.

Some people started to gather, their phones out, and recording the spectacle. I could hear murmurs and gasps from the crowd, and the horse rider's smug laugh cut through the chaos.

"Let him go," he ordered his goons. "I

want him to remember this."

They released me, and I stumbled

backward, my
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