Yara Lu had actually arrived.
Nathaniel Fu and Celia both stiffened. Neither of them had expected Yara to fall into the hands of this gang.
Nathaniel's sharp features grew taut, his jaw tightening as he glared at her. "Yara, why are you here?"
"I came to surprise you, Nancheng," Yara said breathlessly.
Brother Biao yanked Yara against his side, his expression smug as he addressed Nathaniel. "Since your wife is pregnant, we'll just take this little beauty Yara home for a drink. You don't mind, do you?"
Yara shrieked, her face pale with fear. "Nancheng, save me! Hurry and save me!"
Nathaniel's eyes turned ice-cold. "Try it. I dare you to lay a finger on her."
Brother Biao smirked, shifting tactics. "Alright, alright, we won't touch her. But you can't take both women for yourself. Leave one behind. Fair's fair."
The men behind him roared with laughter."Yeah, let him choose!""Pick one to keep, the other stays with us!"
Celia's eyes narrowed coldly. Her gaze lifted to Nathaniel's striking face. These men were forcing him to choose between her and Yara.
Which woman would he choose?
Nathaniel's fists clenched at his sides, his temples throbbing with rage. The corners of his eyes were already streaked red, like blood seeping into water.
"What's taking so long?" Brother Biao mocked, pinching Yara's waist crudely. "Looks like pretty little Yara will be keeping us company tonight."
Tears welled in Yara's eyes as she cried out, "Nancheng! Why haven't you chosen me yet? How can you hesitate?!"
In her mind, there was no question—Nathaniel should choose her without a second thought.
Nathaniel's expression grew darker, unreadable. Slowly, his eyes shifted toward Celia. She met his gaze, unflinching, as though she already knew the answer.
The next second, Nathaniel strode forward, seized Yara's wrist, and ripped her from Brother Biao's grip. Without a glance back, he pulled her away.
He had chosen Yara.
Brother Biao threw his head back and laughed cruelly. He advanced on Celia, one hand gripping her chin. "See? That man didn't pick you. He abandoned you—left you for us."
Celia remained silent. She neither spoke nor resisted.
"Come on, little beauty," one of the men jeered. "Let's take you for a ride."
Rough hands shoved her into the back of a black van.
Nathaniel dragged Yara to the car. She sat in the passenger seat, her face twisted with grievance.
"Nancheng, I flew all the way here to surprise you, and instead I end up in danger because of you! Those filthy men put their hands on me—it was disgusting. Take me back to the hotel right now. I want a rose-petal bath."
The screech of tires filled the night as Nathaniel slammed on the brakes, pulling the car to the side of the road.
Yara blinked, startled. "Nancheng, why are we stopping? Don't tell me you're going back for Celia. I forbid it! You're my fiancé—why would you save another woman?"
Veins stood out on the backs of Nathaniel's hands as they gripped the steering wheel. His voice was low, frigid. "It's safe here. Get out."
"What?!" Yara's voice cracked with disbelief.
Nathaniel shoved his door open, stalked to her side, and yanked the passenger door wide. He pulled Yara out with a sharp, impatient force.
His handsome face was carved with frost, his tone colder than steel. "Yara, if you can't use your head, then stay in China. Don't come abroad making reckless mistakes."
Without another word, he turned, got back into the car, and sped away—leaving her on the roadside.