Hearing her words, Erik's mood soared.
"Woman, you have excellent taste."
Erik wrapped an arm around Janelle's waist, glaring at Nelson, who was practically seething.
"What good are looks? Does he have money? Can he give you the best life?"
"Him being by my side is the best life. You wouldn't understand!" Janelle retorted, her gaze flicking dismissively towards Nelson's crotch.
"..." She didn't need to say anything more. That single look was enough to ignite Nelson's fury. Was she questioning his manhood? They'd been young when they were together; Janelle had never let him touch her. She had no idea how capable he was in bed!
"Is that so? I'll make sure you experience my prowess!" Nelson snarled, done talking. He gave a sharp nod to his men.
The dozens of bodyguards surged forward, targeting only Erik, as Nelson had ordered. Dead or injured, it didn't matter. Nelson would take responsibility.
Janelle knew Erik's capabilities. Seeing no guards coming for her, she stayed out of it. The Hills' guards were professionally trained, physically formidable. Yet, facing Erik, they were utterly outmatched. Erik, usually a picture of cool composure, unleashed a terrifying, unrestrained ferocity when fighting.
Within moments, dozens of guards lay groaning on the ground, unable to rise. Erik strode purposefully towards Nelson.
Nelson stared in horror. How? Dozens of guards defeated? "Who... who are you?" he stammered.
"He's an assassin," Janelle supplied casually, deliberately scaring him.
Nelson visibly paled.
Erik stopped before Nelson's wheelchair. A crowd had gathered, captivated by the sheer force of his presence. The way he fought, his black trench coat swirling like a living thing, was mesmerizing. Phones were recording.
"What do you want? Everyone's filming! If you dare lay a hand on me—" Nelson's threat died as Erik's palm cracked sharply across his face.
"I am touching you. What will you do? Everyone saw you bring dozens of men to kill me. This is self-defense." Erik's voice was icy. "Nelson, you escaped death last night. Shouldn't you be licking your wounds in the shadows? Why crawl back here to die?"
"And you wanted Miss Rovella as your mistress?" Erik's contempt was palpable. "Where do you get the nerve? A pathetic worm like you? You're not worthy of her!" Each sentence was punctuated by another stinging slap. Nelson tried to recoil, but Erik's foot pinned the wheelchair in place. Humiliated beyond measure in front of the crowd, Nelson had no choice.
"I was wrong! Please! Let me go! I know I was wrong!" he begged, wincing from the pain radiating through his body. He'd brought an army! He thought he'd crush this man! Instead, he was utterly defeated.
"Wrong? Where exactly?" Another backhand split Nelson's lip.
"Your mouth is filthy. How dare you speak to her like that?" Nelson spat blood.
Erik kicked over the wheelchair. Nelson crashed to the ground, pinned under the metal frame. He glared up at Erik, hatred burning in his eyes, fists clenched. How dare he?! The surrounding whispers were unbearable; he couldn't bear to look up, terrified of being recognized as the Hills heir. Not a single one of his fallen guards dared intervene.
Erik was sick of Nelson repeatedly harassing Janelle. He delivered several more brutal kicks.
"Stop! You'll kill him!" a woman in the crowd cried out. The man in the wheelchair had said awful things, but killing him was too far. "He's your boyfriend, right? Talk to him!" she urged Janelle. In front of so many witnesses, a death would be catastrophic.
"Let's go," Janelle said flatly. She was right; the crowd was too big for Erik to escalate further.
"Alright." Erik wouldn't listen to anyone else. But Janelle? Her word was law. The murderous aura vanished instantly as he fell into step behind her, suddenly docile.
"Take him back to the Hills." Janelle's voice cut through the murmurs. "Tell Mrs. Hill: if there's a next time... consequences be damned." With that final warning, she led Erik away.
Only when the demonic man was gone did the guards scramble over.
"Mr. Hill! Are you... are you okay?" The question died on the guard's lips. Nelson's face was swollen like a pig's head, worse than any of theirs.
"I'll kill him! I swear I'll kill him!" Nelson raged, the humiliation deeper than any physical pain. He'd never been so publicly shamed in his life.
Guards helped him up, jostling his injuries, making him gasp in agony. They delivered the broken heir to the Hills mansion.
Mrs. Hill took one look at her son's battered face and exploded. She smashed everything breakable within reach. "Outrageous! Utterly outrageous! Janelle and that bastard have gone too far!" Fury choked her. "How did you protect him?! I pay you a fortune! What use are you?!" She unleashed her rage on the cowering guards, who stood rigid, not daring to breathe. The Hills paid well, but not enough to die for. That man fought like a demon. Who wasn't afraid?
"Mom, I—"
"Shut up!" Mrs. Hill rounded on Nelson. "You disappoint me! My son! Beaten to a pulp by some gutter trash! Are you even my son?!"
"Mom, I'm an intellectual! I couldn't fight him! But I won't swallow this!" Nelson couldn't let it go. The man was too strong in a fight. He needed to find another way, a way to make him suffer unimaginably. Everyone had a weakness. Find it, and he'd make him regret being born.
Remembering Nelson's crucial Institute assessment next month, Mrs. Hill forced herself to soften. "Nelson, your assessment is next month. You must focus entirely on that. As for that man... don't worry. I will handle him." In Graham City, making someone disappear wasn't difficult.
"I know. Don't worry. I won't let you down," Nelson vowed, his confidence in securing his place at the M Institute unshaken.