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He scowled and took a few steps forward, trying to pull Zoey towards him.
But Zoey recoiled, avoiding his grasp with a frown creasing her brow. She truly couldn't figure out Fitch anymore. With his wealth and good looks, why
was he picking a fight with her?
Fitch's expression darkened even more at her evasion. He slowly retracted his empty hand, chuckling lightly.
Sensing the challenge, Henry, as a fellow man, couldn't help but get heated. "Zoey, did he hurt you?"
Just as Zoey was about to shake her head, Henry grabbed her wrist to inspect it. Upon seeing the red mark where she had been grabbed, his tone
instantly turned icy. "Did he abuse you?"
Zoey didn't want to escalate the situation and quickly shook her head. "No, Henry, we..."
But before she could finish, Fitch's brooding voice cut in. "Enough."
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He raised his hand and forcefully pulled Zoey towards him. Henry was surprised by his brutality and swung a punch towards Fitch's face. Fitch's head
jerked to the side, and he instinctively kicked Henry.
No one in Greenfield, or anywhere for that matter, dared to treat him like this.
The power disparity between grown men can be substantial. Fitch, having been through rigorous military training, was skilled in combat. Henry, on the
other hand, always played by the rules and was no match for him.
The kick was harsh, and Henry spat out blood.
Zoey, petrified, saw the bodyguards moving to handle Henry and pushed Fitch away in panic. "Have you lost your mind? You can't just start hitting
people!"
As the bodyguards were about to intervene, Zoey tried to make them stop, but Fitch's hands wrapped tightly around her waist from behind.
Seeing this, Henry, fueled by desperation, pushed the bodyguards away and picked up a sharp piece of rock, stabbing it into Fitch's chest.
Fitch could have dodged, but with Zoey in his arms, he feared she would get hurt instead. So he took the hit, blood instantly flowing.
The bodyguards then moved in on Henry in earnest.
Zoey was dazed, the events unfolding too quickly for her to process. When she finally snapped back to reality, she saw the bodyguards about to
crush Henry's hand.
"Stop it! Enough! Don't hit him!" She hurried over, positioning herself in front of Henry, her gaze fixed sharply on Fitch. "Call your men off. He's a
pianist. Do you really want to ruin him?"
Fitch remained silent, his hand pressed against his bleeding chest, the blood still flowing freely. After a moment, he chuckled, "Zoey, are you blind? Is
he the only one hurt?"
Clearly, he was more injured, but she instinctively ignored it.
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Zoey still shielded Henry, growing angrier. "Mr. Haskins, this is all your doing. If you hadn't draggedhere, Henry wouldn't have had to hit you."
Oh, how wonderful. Fitch felt himself losing his grip on rationality, especially against her piercing, unwavering gaze. The blood seemed to flow even
faster from his chest.
He thought bitterly, might as well bleed out, see if she'll regret it at all. As his sanity teetered on the edge, his lips pressed tightly together. "Let him go.
You stay."
Zoey, worried Fitch would change his mind, quickly helped Henry up. "Henry, you should go. Don't you have a flight tomorrow? Don't waste your time
here; I'm fine."
Henry looked down, finding courage from sunknown place. "I don't want to leave the country anymore."
Zoey gasped, secretly wishing for a man to make such a change for her, but she knew their relationship hadn't reached such depths. If she were to
alter Henry's future because of her, and if they didn't last, it would be beyond awkward.
"Zoey, I'm serious. | don't want to go abroad anymore. There's plenty to appreciate right here at home."