Chapter 1222:
Linsey met his fury with icy indifference, waving him off like an annoying fly. “Get lost. Keep hassling me, and I’ll have the cops here in five minutes.”
The man wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. Instead, he let out a mocking laugh at her threat. “Fine,” he sneered, his grip tightening around her wrist as he yanked her toward him. “Let’s see if I can get you naked faster than you can dial 911.”
Linsey fought against his grabbing hands, her voice rising in desperation as she turned to the bartender. “Call the police! This creep is assaulting me!” The bartender acted as if he hadn’t heard a word, keeping his eyes fixed on the drinks he was mixing.
This man was a regular fixture at the bar, notorious for preying on women. Countless others had fallen victim to his advances, but his connections ran deep enough that no one dared intervene.
When it became clear no help was coming, Linsey decided to handle things herself.
Just as the man’s filthy hands reached for her chest, Linsey seized an empty bottle from the counter and brought it crashing down on his skull with every ounce of strength she possessed.
Glass exploded with a sharp crack, and crimson began crawling down the man’s brow in a slow, ugly streak. Shock froze the bartender and the man’s lackeys in place, none of them daring to move.
Spotting her chance, Linsey bolted without looking back. The sharp sound snapped the lackeys out of their daze, and they swarmed around their leader. “Boss, are you hurt?” one of them asked, panicked.
He swayed a little, brushed trembling fingers across his temple, and cursed, “Goddamn it.” His eyes flicked to his bloody palm, littered with shards. Then, rage took hold. He lashed out and slapped the nearest one. “Why are you just standing there? Go get that crazy bitch!”
“R-right!” Scrambling out of their shock, the lackeys scattered in pursuit.
With alcohol clouding her steps, Linsey could barely keep herself upright as she made her escape. “Stop right there—”
Let your imagination soar with gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s．çο𝗺
Hearing their voices growing louder behind her made her stomach twist. She forced herself to move faster, her lungs burning. But her foot clipped a table leg, and her unsteady frame pitched forward, sending her crashing toward the floor.
Before she could hit the ground, an arm swooped around her waist, steady and firm. She landed hard against someone’s chest, her breath catching in her throat. A moment passed before it dawned on her—she was practically sitting in a man’s lap. Jolted by surprise, she sprang up as though burned.
Spinning around, Linsey took in her rescuer’s face.
As she locked eyes with him amidst the chaos, recognition flashed across her features, and she blurted out, “Collin… How did you end up here?”
Silent and composed, Collin sat in his wheelchair, offering no immediate answer. With hands relaxed on the wheels, he regarded Linsey quietly, a shadow of mystery in his gaze as he looked her over. She was soaked from the rain, her clothes clinging to every curve, outlining her silhouette beneath the dim light.
There was a gentle beauty to her face—a mix of innocence and subtle allure that lingered even in the bar’s dim glow. It was hardly a surprise that a woman drinking alone at night would draw the wrong kind of attention.
Collin’s mind wandered as he watched her, his thoughts finally coming to rest on those bright, clear eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, the two lackeys staggered over, their eyes fixed on Linsey.
In a flash, Collin’s bodyguards closed in, subduing the men with practiced ease. The men’s groans went ignored as Collin leveled a sharp look at Linsey. His voice was like ice. “Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
