Facade of Love Novel novel Chapter 417

Yara fixed me with a fierce glare, her face stormy. Inch's words only made her mood sour further. She snapped, "Furious? What does Charlie have to be furious about? If my father found out he's keeping a woman here, he would be the first to take him down. He's supposed to marry me. How dare he fool around? Beating her was letting her off easy. I’m here to finish the job."

Inch's frown deepened, but he stood his ground, still in front of me. "I'm just following orders to protect her, Ms. Yara. Let's wait for the boss to get back before we sort this out."

"Get out of my way!" Yara shoved Inch hard, but he stood his ground like a rock, which only made her more livid.

She turned to the onlookers trailing behind her and shouted, "What's wrong with you people? Are you just going to stand there? Pull him off me!"

Suddenly, everyone closed in. Inch had his own crew, yet they seemed too chicken to cross Ms. Yara, with not one of them daring to make a peep.

Yara marched right up to me, her eyes shooting daggers. She spotted the medicine bottle in Rebecca's hand, and with a swift flick of her wrist, sent it crashing to the floor. "You think you deserve medicine, you lowlife?" she spat at me.

I was perched on a chair, and as her hand came flying toward me, I dodged on instinct, catching her wrist, my eyebrows knitting together. I pushed back, sending her hand flying.

Her face twisted in rage at my defiance. She grabbed a chair and swung it at me like a baseball bat.

"Ms. Scott!" Inch, trapped in the crowd, could only cry out in horror.

I could not even react. Yara's pride gave me no room to fight back; she was like a storm, ready to crush me just to let off steam.

The chair was coming down fast, and all I could do was shut my eyes tight, bracing for the blow.

Crack!

"Ouch!"

The thud of the chair and a muffled gasp filled the air.

Realizing I was not in agony took my brain a second. I blinked my eyes open, and there he was. A towering figure had stepped in front of me, taking the hit. The chair had landed squarely on his arm, and a ribbon of blood was now winding its way down from his wrist.