Instead of getting angry at Hector Donovan's threat, Jacqueline Jennings laughed. "Make things difficult for me? I'd love to see you try."
The words had barely left her mouth when the bodyguards in black stepped forward in unison. A fight was imminent.
Seeing this, Arabella Donovan could no longer be bothered with pondering the messy history between her brother and Jacqueline Jennings. She chimed in with a gentle smile, "Ms. Jennings, there's no need to make things so unpleasant. My brother didn't mean it like that. Please, don't be angry. What's that old saying? 'Peace is paramount.' Yes, peace is paramount."
When Jacqueline Jennings heard Arabella, she assumed the girl was intimidated by the show of force and was trying to back down. A smug smile crossed her face as she raised an eyebrow, her tone growing even more contemptuous and forceful.
"I don't care what he meant. Today, whether you like it or not, you're coming with me. If you're smart, you'll come quietly and avoid getting hurt. Otherwise, my men aren't just for show. If a fight breaks out, you'll be the only ones suffering."
Hearing this, Arabella Donovan's smile vanished. "So there's no room for negotiation?" she asked, her voice laden with meaning.
"What is there to negotiate?" Jacqueline Jennings's patience had run out. She reached out to pinch Arabella's cheek, but her wrist was caught in a firm grip.
"Well, in that case, you made the first move."
"What?" Jacqueline Jennings froze. She only just realized that Arabella had somehow caught both of her hands. She instinctively tried to pull away but found... she couldn't move them an inch.
"You..." Jacqueline Jennings's expression changed abruptly. She yanked back with all her might, only to see her wrists turning red while the grip on them didn't loosen in the slightest.
The stinging pain sent Jacqueline Jennings into a rage. She whipped her head around and shrieked at the bodyguards behind her, "Are you all dead?! Get over here and drag her off me!"
The men hadn't even noticed the struggle between the two women. Snapped out of their stupor by Jacqueline's shout, they rushed forward to engage Arabella.
Hector Donovan wasn't about to stand by and watch his sister get hurt. He rolled up his sleeves to join the fray but was promptly shoved aside by Arabella.
"Stay out of it. You'll just get in the way."
Hector Donovan, who stumbled from the push: "???"
Sheldon Webb and Grant were also in a bind, unsure if they should step in to help.
However, before they could decide, they watched, wide-eyed, as Arabella—still holding Jacqueline Jennings with one hand—grabbed the outstretched arm of the nearest bodyguard with her other. With a slight exertion of force, she swung the brawny man, easily twice her size, against the wall of the room.
That's right. She *swung* him.
The impact was so loud the entire room seemed to shake. The bodyguard then crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll, letting out a pained wail.
The three men in the room: ...
Caspian Rhodes, who had just rushed to the doorway: ...
'Is this some kind of divine, innate strength? We must be so stressed that we're hallucinating!'
The scene that followed was chaotic. In Grant's words, in all his years of directing, he had never seen someone send people flying with pure, unadulterated brute force, completely devoid of any flashy, choreographed moves.
Ahem. That was an exaggeration, of course. But he had no doubt that if the room weren't so small and restrictive, Arabella Donovan really could have sent every single one of them flying.
The one-sided beatdown began as suddenly as it ended—and the ending was just as dramatic.
By the time everyone came to their senses, the six or seven bodyguards were scattered across the floor—some lying, some sitting, all groaning in pain. Not a single one of them could get back on their feet.
The private room was a disaster zone. Shards of broken plates and glasses littered the floor, and tables, chairs, and decorations were all knocked askew.
As Arabella Donovan calmed down and surveyed the damage, her expression stiffened slightly. She sheepishly pulled back her "little trouble-making paws."
'Uh-oh. They're not going to make me pay for this, are they? Everyone has to testify for me later! They really did make the first move! This was self-defense! Pure self-defense! *Sob, sob.* Maybe they'll let me pay less if I act pitiful?'
Hector Donovan, whose commercial value was well over a hundred million, felt rather underestimated: ...
'Don't worry. Your big brother is here. Forget this room—even if you smashed the entire hotel, I could afford it.'
'And if I can't, there's always Dad and our older brother.'
Their older brother and father, completely unaware they were being designated as backup ATMs: ?
Caspian Rhodes, who had arrived a step too late, couldn't help but let out an exasperated laugh. 'She's worried about paying for damages at a time like this? Looks like she didn't get hurt at all. I was worried for nothing.'
Arabella's guilt lasted only a second. After a glance at the bodyguards groaning and wailing on the floor, her confidence immediately returned.
'See? I told you I should've come along. If I hadn't been here today, that old hag probably would have kidnapped my brother and forced him to be her... ahem... her boy toy.'
Hector Donovan, the man who had narrowly escaped becoming a "boy toy," felt his lips twitch. He was both annoyed and amused.
'Yes, yes, you're right. From now on, you're my strongest protector. When we get back, I'll have Webb order you a few more sets of jewelry as a bonus.'
It was a good thing Arabella didn't know what her brother was thinking, or she would have packed her bags and run for it that very night.
That last set of jewelry already had her losing sleep, terrified that a thief would sneak in through the window and steal it. With a few more sets, she might as well give up on sleeping altogether.
Jacqueline Jennings never expected that her attempt to grab a "little plaything" she'd taken a fancy to would backfire so spectacularly, taking down her entire security detail along with her own dignity.
Her face was ashen, and she couldn't stop trembling with a mixture of fear and fury.
"You... you... Who... who are you?"
"Hm? Didn't my brother just tell you? I'm his full-blooded sister—the genuine article, no returns or exchanges." Arabella paused, glancing at the men on the floor before flashing a perfectly innocent, harmless smile.
"As for all this," she continued, "I'm a Daoist. My master's secular surname is Rooney, and his family is said to be descended from the famous Terrence Rooney."
"You're a Daoist?" Jacqueline Jennings's voice shot up, her head buzzing. "What is this nonsense?"
"To put it simply, my master's ancestors were cultivators. As his direct disciple, all of you mortals put together probably couldn't beat me."
Everyone: ... 'Probably? We *definitely* can't beat you!'
Jacqueline Jennings's face was livid with rage, but she didn't dare lash out, terrified that Arabella would get annoyed and start hitting her, too.
Just then, the long-overdue host of the private room finally reappeared, asking at just the right moment, "What... what's going on here?"
Jacqueline Jennings's eyes lit up. Never had she been so grateful to see Caspian Rhodes. "Cas—"
Before she could finish, Arabella cut her off. "Ms. Jennings's bodyguards hadn't eaten dinner, so they wanted to come in for a bite. But the room is only so big, and there weren't enough seats. They started arguing over the spots, the argument turned into a fight, and... well, this is what happened."
The onlookers who had witnessed the entire spectacle: "PFFT..."
The "gluttonous" bodyguards, lying helpless on the floor: ... 'We've never been so wrongly accused in our lives!'