Rosalie collapsed on the ground, trembling all over. Beads of hot sweat slid down her forehead, and her face was as white as a sheet. I have money! Name your price, as long as you let me go! You can take as much as you want!
At this moment, survival was her only concern-nothing else mattered.
One of the men crouched down and pinched her face with a malicious grin. Pretty lady, how much money do you have to buy us off?
I can give you however much you want! Rosalie’s eyes widened in fear as she trembled. I have a lot of money-diamonds, gold bars, cash! Whatever you want, I can give it to you!
How generous this beautiful woman is. The man’s grubby hand squeezed her face, then roughly tore open her blouse, revealing the lingerie beneath.
The men burst into laughter. Nice body. Real spicy.
Ah! Rosalie screamed. Her hands were pinned to the ground, and she was unable to move. All she could do was beg in terror, Please let me go! I’ll give you the money. You can have as many women as you want!
Begging them won’t help. Vincent’s lazy voice drifted over. They kill, rob, smuggle, and deal drugs without batting an eye. Letting you go is impossible. No matter how much you beg, they’ll still have their way with you before dragging you into the desert and burying you alive.
Rosalie’s despair grew so deep she could barely breathe. In agony, she shut her eyes.
A tall figure slowly emerged from the crowd, walking with elegance and steady steps. His gaze, sharp as an arrow, pierced the space between them, his commanding presence exuding strength and authority.
His dark eyes were as deep as the night sky, and they glowed with an unyielding light. So instead of begging them, you’d be better off begging me. His voice was maic, rich with a vast power that would send a jolt through anyone.
Rosalie opened her eyes, finally getting a clear look at the man approaching.
Though he spoke with a Briusian accent, he had oriental features. His sharp, chiseled features made him look like a perfectly sculpted piece of art.
His tall nose highlighted his
strikingly handsome profile, and his lips, crimson like red flower petals curled slightly upward in a confident smile mysterious air surrounded him, hinting at an inner strength.
The men stared at Vincent, suddenly freezing.
Standing at six feet two, his imposing figure was like a towering mountain. His broad shoulders exuded power, and his aura felt a thousand charging soldiers,
radiating an unparalleled digne ne!
and
awe-inspiring presence! It was like he had gone through many battles, and he stood out in a crowd with his build.
Even though he was outnumbered, the men didn’t dare to underestimate him. They knew just how strong he was.
Rosalie snapped out of her daze, as if he was her last sliver of hope.
The enemies had the numbers, but this man was alone.
If I save you, how much cash will you give me? Vincent casually toyed with the ring on his pinky.
Before Rosalie could answer, the gang leader immediately snarled Vincent, what nonsense are you spouting? You’re already in our trap. You can’t even save yourselfplet alone rescue someone!
I have no choice, Vincent replied lazily. I just can’t resist a rich, beautiful woman. I love getting both money and beauty.
His calm tone made the whole situation seem as casual as a dinner conversation, though in reality, his life hung by a thread.
Yet, he showed no trace of fear-only an overwhelming, unshakable confidence. It was like authority was ingrained in him. Hah! Vincent, let’s see if you still have that resolve after she’s dead.
The gang leader aimed his gun at Rosalie’s head and put his finger on the trigger.
Rosalie trembled helplessly and closed her eyes in despair.