"Huh, quite the tease, aren’t we? Can’t wait any longer?" Daniel Armstrong sneered coldly, pinching Titus Zane’s chin to pull him closer; Titus barely had time to react when his lips were met with a sharp pain.
"Soon, I’ll let you experience it for yourself and see if I’m all talk."
Daniel Armstrong pinned Titus Zane’s chin, his voice laden with ambiguity.
Titus’s face abruptly changed color because of Daniel’s shallow remarks.
Her almond-shaped eyes widened in shock, her nostrils flaring angrily as she instinctively turned to look at Nathan Moore for support. However, he seemed indifferent, casually shuffling poker cards as if Daniel’s humiliation of Titus had nothing to do with him.
The anger inside Titus intensified, not just because of Daniel’s behavior but even more so because of Nathan’s indifference.
His woman was being denigrated by his own brother, and he remained unmoved.
Quickly, her anger turned into desolation, a sense of being ignored, a sadness of being trampled upon by others.
There was the sound of something breaking inside, at the deepest part of her heart, faint, so faint that only she could hear it.
Withdrawing her gaze, Titus looked straight into Daniel’s eyes, a sneer of sorrowful derision emerging at the corner of her mouth.
"Women, by nature, carry a certain... provocative air. The question is, can you, sir, really bring it out?"
Titus spoke provocatively, poking Daniel’s chest with her index finger, a taunting challenge already evident.
Daniel raised an eyebrow, his lips curling with malice.
"Such a cheap woman, truly needs to be put in her place!"
The grip on Titus’s chin tightened, the words coming through his thin lips were equally clenched.
"Watch how I deal with you in a bit!"
"Fine, bring it on!" Titus shot back, not showing any weakness.
Releasing the grip on Titus’s chin, Daniel’s hand suddenly slammed onto the poker table, and he yanked Titus to stand up.
"Keep that tone, cheap wench, and make sure you don’t beg for mercy later. Watch how I won’t just finish you off." Daniel dragged Titus towards the door of the card room; at first, the brothers thought he just wanted to vent for Olivia, but now it was clear he was serious.
Evander Lancaster tried to stand up to intervene, but Nicholas Croft held him down by the shoulder. When Evander looked at him, Nicholas imperceptibly shook his head and glanced at Nathan.
Nathan was still nonchalantly shuffling the cards, but now there were bite marks on his handsome face and veins were showing on his slender hands.
Evander secretly scoffed, no longer meddling. Still, Daniel’s attitude and words disgusted him. After all, Titus was his second brother’s woman, and even if loathed and hated, as a brother, he shouldn’t harbor intentions toward another brother’s woman.
Felix Shaw simply lit up a cigarette, chin up and leg shaking, watching the drama unfold.
Titus, in her high heels, was being dragged out by Daniel without any sympathy, her steps messy, but she still retorted coldly and defiantly.
"Hah, how do you know you won’t be the one dying in the end? Maybe you’ll be the one to die exhausted on top of me!"
"Good, very good! We’ll see soon enough who ends up dying under whom!" Just as Daniel had pulled open the door with Titus in tow, a sudden gust of wind blew, and Daniel felt a tight grip on the collar of his shirt, followed by a blackening of his left eye and a surge of pain.
At the same time, Titus felt a pain in her arm and her whole body fell into a robust human wall.
With a hand rubbing his punched eye socket, Daniel remained unfazed.
Nathan Moore’s large hand gripped tightly around Titus’s waist, his desire for possession obvious. Standing in front of Daniel, his handsome face filled with dark intensity and his gloomy eyes reflected his no-longer-concealed indignation.