Mike roared in fury, throwing another punch aimed straight for the man's temple. If this hit landed, it would be a guaranteed kill.
The crowd around them had grown. Some bystanders were even recording with their phones, eager for some drama to post online. If Mike killed the guy, he'd be facing serious consequences himself.
In a split-second decision, Felicia kicked the middle-aged man in the side, causing him to stumble. Mike's punch veered off course, smashing into the man's nose instead.
The sound of breaking bone was unmistakable.
Blood gushed from the man's nose as he let out a scream and collapsed. His nose was clearly done for, but at least he wasn't dead.
Mike turned, his eyes blazing. When he saw it was Felicia, the veins on his hand bulged as he clenched his fist. It took every ounce of his self-control not to hit her.
"Move," he growled out one cold and menacing word.
Behind him, his driver stepped forward as he was unable to hold back. The man gently tugged on Felicia's sleeve and said, "Miss, Mr. Lawson's daughter has been kidnapped. We don't know where she is. Please don't interfere!"
Felicia ignored the driver. Her eyes stayed locked on Mike as she asked, "The calming sachet I made for Sandra—did you have her carry it with her?"
Mike was still teetering on the edge of losing control, and his bloodshot eyes looked wild. But her question broke through his haze of rage.
If Sandra still had that sachet on her, there was a reason Felicia would ask. She wouldn't have brought it up otherwise.
"It's on her," Mike said quickly.
"Good," Felicia replied. "Take me to where Sandra disappeared. Now."
She placed a hand on his shoulder, her tone steady and efficient. "There's an herb in that sachet with a very distinct scent. I can track it."
The second he heard her explanation, Mike's anger evaporated.
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