Chapter 152 Pretty Boy

Chapter 152 Pretty Boy
Xavier’s Point of View

Those witty little brats. Threatening them any more than I already had would only send the wrong message, and I didn’t want that. Because as much as I wanted the end to justify the means, there was one thing I knew for certain.

There was no universe in which Lana would ever forgive me if I expelled her younger brothers.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. That Liam boy was far too stubborn. If it had been just Leon, I was pretty sure I could have gotten through to him. Not that the threat would have worked exactly, but at least he would have given me a listening ear.

And, to some extent, I might have been able to reason with him.

But Liam?

He simply wouldn’t let me.

At this point, he was proving to be even more dangerous than Lana. My next idea might actually have to be kidnapping him, tying him to a chair, and forcing him to listen to reason.

I remained in my office long after lectures had ended for the day. I couldn’t go home yet. I had promised to make reasonable progress—to at least calm Christian down—and so far, I had accomplished absolutely nothing.

I was pacing across the office when the sharp ring of my phone suddenly tore me from my thoughts.

My eyes narrowed as I glanced at the screen.

An unsaved number, but then I recognized the last two digits. It was one of the men I had assigned to keep an eye on Lana and her brothers.

“Hello?” I dropped into my chair, leaning forward before rocking back again.

“Sir, there’s been a problem.” His panicked voice immediately put me on alert.

“What happened?”

“While the twins were on their way home just now, they were attacked by a group of men. They’re being beaten right now.”

I shot out of the chair so quickly it nearly scraped backward across the floor.

“What?”

“And it’s serious, sir. One of the attackers has a knife.” His voice tightened. “One of the twins appears to be badly injured already.”

My jaw clenched.

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes, I did,” he answered.

“Send me the address. I’ll be right there.”

My fingers immediately went to my neck, loosening the tie that suddenly felt too damn tight before I stormed out of the office.

“Fuck!”

From what I could tell, these were probably the same thugs from that day. I had to get there and stop this before things became even more serious. He said one of the twins was badly injured, and that alone was enough to send my pulse racing.

I hurried down the hallway, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby before taking the stairs two at a time. I barely felt my shoes hit the steps as I raced toward the location the security team had given me.



“I said I’ll fight for you! Just let my brother go!” The desperate scream reached me before I even stepped into the alley.

Liam.

I recognized his voice immediately.

“I’ll fight you! Just let him go!” he shouted again, his voice cracking with desperation. “Why the hell are you beating my brother?”

My jaw tightened. Why the hell hadn’t the police arrived yet?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” My voice cut through the chaos as I rushed into the scene.

Everyone froze.

I immediately tapped the earpiece I had slipped on earlier when an incoming call buzzed against my ear.

“Boss…”

“Noah?” I asked, needing to make sure I had the right person before responding.

“Yes, boss. The police will be here in five minutes. I suggest you don't engage them.”

I stared at the men surrounding the twins.

Five minutes.

If I didn't engage, one of those boys might not survive those five minutes.

And I wasn't about to stand there and watch one of Lana's brothers die.

“And who the hell are you, pretty boy?” one of the thugs sneered.

The others exchanged amused glances.

I barely heard them.

My attention had already fallen on the bodies lying on the ground.

Leon.

He was covered in bruises, blood smeared across his face. The man who had just spoken to me stood over him, one foot planted against the side of Leon's head as though he were nothing more than trash beneath his shoe.

My stomach twisted, then I looked at Liam.

He was sprawled across the ground a few feet away, several men keeping him pinned down. One of them shoved his foot against Liam's back, forcing him to remain still as he watched his brother being beaten.

It was horrifying.

The arrogance Liam had shown me earlier was completely gone.

There was no defiance in his expression now.

Only helplessness.

Tears rolled down his dirt-streaked cheeks as he stared at Leon, his breathing ragged and uneven.

For the first time since I had met him, Liam looked genuinely terrified.

Not for himself.

For his brother.

“How can you people call yourselves human?” I asked, my voice laced with disgust. “These are children you’re beating.”

“Xavier!” Liam’s voice broke through the tension. “Please, help us! Leon isn’t responding. Please, do something!”

My eyes immediately returned to Leon.

“What are you doing running around on our turf?” the thug in front of me demanded as he finally lifted his heavy boot from Leon’s head.

There was blood smeared across the ground beneath him.

For a terrifying second, I thought the boy was dead.

Then I noticed the faint rise and fall of his chest.

He was still breathing.

Barely.

“I’m a lecturer at their school,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “And I can’t just stand by and turn a blind eye while two of my students are being beaten.”

“Ohhh!” The men laughed in unison, clearly mocking me.

I ignored them.

Five minutes.

That was how long Noah said it would take for the police to arrive.

I needed to end this before then.

“Apparently, your so-called students are thieves,” one of the men said.

“We’re not thieves!” Liam yelled from the ground, his body trembling. “I won the money fair and square!”

The thug scoffed.

I slowly rolled my shoulders, keeping my eyes on the men in front of me.

“You know what?” I said calmly. “I’m going to count to ten, and by the time I reach ten, you’re going to let them go.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then they all burst into laughter.

“Or what, pretty boy?”

“Or I’m going to make every single one of you pay.”

My gaze swept across the group.

Eight of them.

Eight against one.

Normally, that might have been enough to make anyone reconsider.

But I had spent years training in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. I knew how to fight, how to use leverage, and, more importantly, how to stay calm when I was outnumbered.

One of the men stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

“I’m going to carve a hole in that pretty face of yours, pretty boy.”