In the narrow stairwell, Jeff—smaller in build than the two thugs—appeared at a clear disadvantage.
But he slipped their punches with ease, vaulted onto the stair railing, and snapped a precise kick into one man's face.
"Damn! That actually hurt!"
The kicked thug clutched his nose as blood poured out.
Jeff gave a faint smile. "Sorry if I embarrass you—I'm a fourth-degree black belt."
"I'm a ninth-degree black belt!" the other roared, lunging with a furious kick.
Jeff dropped lightly from the railing, drove a quick punch into the second man's midsection, and shook his head at the ignorance.
A genuine fourth-degree black belt took years of dedicated training; a ninth-degree typically required someone at least fifty-five years old and decades of mastery. This guy clearly had no clue.
Jeff had trained in far more than just Taekwondo over the years.
Bang!
He delivered a classic one-inch punch—Bruce Lee style—driving the air from his opponent's lungs in a spray of acid reflux.
Boom!
With a fluid over-the-shoulder throw, Jeff slammed the heavier man hard against the metal railing.
Two professional enforcers, defeated in seconds.
...
Riverforge, The Pinnacle Hotel—the venue for Old Madam Harper's eightieth birthday banquet.
Michael approached his mother with an embarrassed grimace. "Mom, the pros I hired… Jeff crippled them."
"What?"
The entire family froze in shock. So the useless son-in-law was actually a martial arts expert?
"Is there no one who can handle this beast?!" Old Madam Harper slammed her palm on the table, fury shaking her voice.
At that moment, Marcus Kane—the Riverforge general agent for Swift Delivery—arrived with gifts to offer birthday wishes.
Seeing Marcus, Michael's face lit up.
Marcus was nobody special in Riverforge circles. Years ago, when food delivery was still looked down on, he'd bought the regional agency for Swift Delivery with just $200,000.
Today, ten times that wouldn't secure the position.
Ever since he'd made real money through the platform, Marcus had dreamed of breaking into the city's upper class.
Old Madam Harper's eightieth was the perfect chance to network and curry favor with the family.
"Mr. Kane, welcome! How have you been?" Michael stepped forward with a warm smile and handshake.
Marcus held a bottle of fine red wine in one hand while shaking with the other. "Thank you for asking, Mr. Harper. I'm doing well."
He approached Old Madam Harper and presented the bottle.
"Grandma Harper, I heard you enjoy a good vintage. This is a 1990 Romanée-Conti. Happy birthday—may you live long and in perfect health!"
Old Madam Harper rose to accept it graciously. "Thank you, Mr. Kane. You're too kind."
Marcus asked politely, "How have you been feeling lately, ma'am?"
Old Madam Harper let out a heavy sigh.
Noticing her mood, Marcus turned to Michael. "Mr. Harper, Grandma Harper seems upset?"
Michael sighed dramatically. "Don't laugh at us, Mr. Kane, but the Harper family has truly been unfortunate lately."
"You remember Jeff—the live-in son-in-law who married into my brother's side?"
Marcus nodded. Three years earlier, Emily Harper—one of Riverforge's most talked-about beauties—had married an ordinary delivery driver. It had been the gossip of the city.
Back then, Marcus had envied Jeff bitterly. He too was just a regular guy with no pedigree, dreaming of landing a wealthy heiress.
Michael continued, "That animal not only cheated on Emily—he beat my son senseless. Look at Brandon's face!"
Marcus finally noticed the heavy bruising and swelling on Brandon's face.
But now he felt awkward. He was just a small-time businessman—what standing did he have to interfere in a prominent family's drama?
Marcus said carefully, "It's a shame I don't have much pull in Riverforge. If even you can't handle this, Mr. Harper, I'm afraid I'm powerless too. Otherwise I'd gladly teach that ungrateful punk a lesson!"
Michael clapped him on the shoulder. "You're being modest, Mr. Kane. Actually, you're exactly the person who can help."
"That bastard works for you—he's one of your Swift Delivery riders!" Brandon blurted out.
Marcus's eyes lit up instantly. "Jeff is a Swift Delivery employee? Mr. Harper, leave this to me!"
As the regional general agent for Swift Delivery in Riverforge, Marcus held absolute authority over riders like Jeff—he even had real-time access to their locations.
He pulled out his phone right away. "Hey, Kasey, pull up Jeff's employee ID and current position." Kasey agreed with affirmation and confirmed that she found the guy's account.
"Okay—send him an immediate order and route it to The Pinnacle Hotel."
After hanging up, Marcus turned respectfully to Old Madam Harper.
"Grandma Harper, that gigolo will be here shortly. I'll make him regret it—right here in public."
Old Madam Harper, Michael, and Brandon all broke into satisfied smiles.
Fifteen minutes later, Jeff pulled up to the entrance of The Pinnacle Hotel on his motorcycle.
He dialed the customer. "Mr. Kane, your takeout has arrived. I'm at the front entrance of The Pinnacle Hotel. Could you please come out to collect it?"
Inside the hotel lobby, Marcus was still chatting with Old Madam Harper and the family.
He barked into the phone, "Bring it inside!"
Jeff glanced up at the grand rainbow archway spanning the entrance: "Wishing Grandma Harper a Happy 80th Birthday."
The Pinnacle was Riverforge's premier venue for high-end banquets—he immediately guessed this was Emily's family event.
"Sorry," Jeff replied, "the hotel doesn't allow delivery personnel inside. Please come out to pick it up."
Marcus covered the mouthpiece, glanced at Old Madam Harper for approval, then said, "Fine. Wait at the door—I'm coming."
Two minutes later, Marcus stepped out, flanked by Old Madam Harper, Michael, Brandon, and several other Harpers.