Dahlia's POV
Charline's fingers curled into white-knuckled fists as her venomous stare burned through me. With swift movements, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
Two minutes later, the front door swung open to reveal two massive men in dark suits. They moved with the practiced ease of professional enforcers, positioning themselves like loyal guard dogs at Charline's flanks.
The taller one stepped forward with mechanical precision. "Miss Zaid, how may we serve you?"
Charline's lips twisted into a cruel smile that made my skin crawl. "Pin her down and deliver enough slaps to that pretty face until I decide she's learned her lesson. If anyone tries to play hero, deal with them the same way."
Terror flashed across Kellan's weathered features, but the old man planted himself firmly between the thugs and me. His trembling hand reached toward his jacket, desperately searching for something that might help.
