Veronica's POV
The young man who'd nearly crashed into me on the roadside before—it was him again!
I couldn't believe it was actually him!
Denton folded his umbrella shut, paint droplets falling from its tip. His voice carried a deep, magnetic authority as he demanded, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The woman who'd hurled the paint clearly hadn't expected to nail the wrong target. One look at the imposing, well-dressed man facing her down, and she knew she'd screwed up royally.
Denton's commanding presence made her drop the paint bucket like it was on fire.
He pointed at the mob of older women with intimidating authority, his voice ice-cold. "Do you have any clue that what you're pulling here is against the law?"
"I've got everything recorded—your slander, the whole show! Already called the cops too. Public disturbance, defamation—take your pick. Both are enough to land you in jail! When those officers show up, you're all getting hauled in!"
