The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Chapter 855

The man's voice oozed sleaze-a hungry, predatory edge that made Simone's skin crawl.

Joshua didn't even glance in their direction. He kept walking, not the least bit interested in getting involved.

"Seymour, if you lay a hand on me, my brother will kill you!" Simone's voice trembled with fury.

"Miss Lerman, relax. I'll take responsibility for you. Once | formally ask your family for your hand, your brother

won't have a reason to kill me," Seymour replied, his tone mocking.

"I'd rather die than marry you!"

Seymour cut her off with a malicious laugh. "By then, whether you want to or not won't be your decision."

Joshua's face remained completely impassive as he overheard their exchange. If anything, he picked up his pace,

determined to leave the mess behind.

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Suddenly, a disheveled woman burst out from the flowerbeds ahead, stumbling as she ran.

"Miss Lerman, stop running! You can't get away!" Seymour shouted after her.

Simone tore through the darkness, her breath ragged, desperately searching for a way out. Then, she spotted a

tall figure standing not far away-a man, half- shadowed, almost blending into the night. Even from a distance, his

presence was intimidating, his silhouette sharp and commanding.

Simone's eyes lit up with hope. She sprinted toward him.

"My nis Simone," she blurted out, barely stopping to catch her breath. "That man is trying to hurt me! If you

help me, | swear I'll reward you—anything you want!"

The lane was deserted, tucked away far from the city lights. Up close, Simone still couldn't make out the man's

face, only his broad-shouldered frand the cool confidence in his stance.

Seymour's voice turned icy. "Mind your own business. This is betweenand Miss Lerman. Even if you try to tell

someone, nobody will believe you. And the Chapman family-they'd never let you get away with it."

The man remained silent, shrouded in darkness.

Simone pleaded, "If you savetonight, I'll take responsibility for whatever happens! I'm the eldest daughter of

the Lerman family you must've heard the name. Help me, and my family will owe you. O Whatever you want,

just say the word. Withbacking you, no one would dare lay a finger on you!"

He stood there for a moment, unmoving. Then, finally, he stepped forward.

Seymour's eyes narrowed. He could feel it a dangerous energy radiated from this stranger. Still, after scanning

his memory and finding no match to any of the city's powerful families, Seymour's confidence returned.

He drew a knife, the blade catching the moonlight, shining cold and bright. Without hesitation, Seymour lunged,

aiming straight for Joshua's back. His movement was swift and practiced, the strike calculated-a man who knew

how to fight, not just posture.

But in a split second-

The stranger's hand shot out, gripping Seymour's wrist with crushing force. Joshua's eyes flashed with ice.

A sharp crack echoed through the night, followed by Seymour's agonized scream.

The knife clattered to the ground, metal ringing against stone.

Simone stared in shock. Seymour's wrist was twisted at an unnatural angle—

broken cleanly, right in the stranger's iron grip.

He'd snapped the bone as if it were nothing.