Chapter 8: Mitchell's a Martial Artist

Words : 1818 Updated : Feb 18th, 2024

Mitchell wrapped his arms around Rowena's waist and smiled. "You said I'm an actor, right? If true, she won't let me touch her." Mike was shocked and furious. "You brat! You..." Before Mike could finish, Mitchell's hand moved up again, hugging Rowena's shoulders. "Am I still an actor?" By now, Mike was flushed with anger and speechless. Mitchell was frivolous with Rowena, and her lack of resistance made it clear to anyone that this was not an act. But that was not all. Mitchell's hand moved again, and he affectionately pinched Rowena's soft, elastic face. Mitchell wore an innocent smile. "Do I look like acting?" Although Rowena didn't dodge Mitchell's touch, she suppressed her anger. She smiled, but inside, she was cursing him. However, Mitchell didn't stop touching her. "Do you still think I'm an actor?" In just a few seconds, Mitchell touched Rowena's delicate facial features. Mike stood petrified on the spot, his face ashen. Rowena thought Mitchell was no different than other men. He didn't look as innocent as she thought. He was taking advantage of her. Since Rowena used him as a shield, he might as well gain "interest" from her. However, despite Mitchell's frivolous behavior, Rowena smiled and acted like a loving wife. After all, she had spent tons of money on Mitchell and couldn't return him. Mitchell hugged Rowena, clearly enjoying the beautiful lady in his arms. He acted completely different from before. A few hours ago, he swore he would rather starve to death than not be the Ximenez family's son-in-law. Nonetheless, his current actions contradicted his previous words. Ten years ago, Mitchell was close to Rowena, but they were children, so they didn't know the boundaries between men and women. However, Mike, who witnessed all this, was furious. The woman he had pursued for three years was being snatched away by a village boy whose origins were unknown. Moreover, their relationship had developed to such an intimate level. "Rowie, please stop acting, okay? Even if you want to reject me, you can't wrong yourself by being with such a poor boy. I am sincere to you." Mike's eyes were bloodshot. He was gradually losing control. He even tried to step forward and forcibly take Rowena's hand. Mitchell's gaze suddenly sharpened, and he stepped forward. His body, as hard as a steel plate, pushed Mike back a few steps, causing him to fall to the ground, looking embarrassed. "Ouch! My tailbone…" "Mr. Mike, are you okay?" Several bodyguards rushed over to help Mike up. Mitchell flashed his harmless smile again and said, "Stop harassing my wife. Otherwise, the baby in her belly will be unhappy. The baby is innocent." As Mitchell spoke, he leaned over, put his ear close to Rowena's flat belly, and said softly, "Baby, Daddy is here, don't be afraid." Mike's face turned pale. His voice trembled. "Row...Rowie, are you pregnant?" Rowena was left speechless. Mitchell's shamelessness was greater than she had imagined. However, Rowena was too lazy to explain. She didn't want to waste time at the airport gate, so she leaned into Mitchell's ear and said, "Mitchell, you are much more shameless than you were ten years ago!" After saying that, Rowena moved her slender legs, turned around, and got into a Bentley parked on the roadside. "Ms. Rowena, Mr. Quinton is an interesting guy." As soon as Rowena got into the car, the middle-aged driver turned to her and showed a kind smile. "Howard, I feel tired today. Let's return to Aqua Pavilion Estates. I'll go to Grandpa's house tomorrow." "Alright, Ms. Rowena." The driver was Howard Hughes, the Ximenez family's butler. Howard was nominally a housekeeper, but he was also Rowena's bodyguard. As a descendant of the Hughes Martial Arts, his strength was at the mid-stage of inner energy. No ordinary killer or special forces could get near him. "Calling me shameless? I regard you as Rowie, but you see me as your fiancé. I think you're after my body," Mitchell murmured, then walked toward the Bentley with a playful smile. After all, he still had to follow Rowena until he officially declined his engagement to Nina. But in the next moment, Mike's roar came from behind Mitchell. "Don't let the brat run away! Get him!" In an instant, a dozen burly men surrounded Mitchell. Mitchell stopped. His hands were in his pockets. He frowned as he glanced at the men surrounding him. The men had a fierce look. "Ms. Rowena, something bad is happening!" Howard saw the situation and anxiously unbuckled his seat belt. "Mike's bodyguards were hired at a high price from the Black Dragon Guild. They're ruthless. Mr. Quinton's in real danger. If I don't go…" "He'll be fine." Rowena watched Mitchell from the car window. She shook her slender finger at Howard and uttered a few words. Meanwhile, Mike pulled a baseball bat from the trunk of his Porsche and walked toward Mitchell aggressively. "Boy, you've hooked up with my woman. You think you can just walk away?" Mitchell turned to look at Mike and laughed heartily. "Mr. Mike, we're all adults. If you can talk, don't resort to violence. I'll step aside if you're willing to raise my son." Mitchell's words had been brutal and straightforward since he was a child. He could easily anger someone by talking. Mitchell once argued with fifty women in his village and eventually won. He became famous after that encounter. Mike was so furious his lungs felt like they might explode. His teeth clenched so hard they almost cracked as he lost all composure. He yelled, "Bastard! I'll skin you alive today to vent my rage! All of you! Attack him!" At Mike's command, more than a dozen bodyguards clenched their fists and charged at Mitchell. Mitchell's face remained calm. He muttered to himself, "Tsk, tsk, forcing me to use violence right after I came down from the mountain. How will I, a civilized human of the 21st century, look at myself in the future?" Just as one of the men's fists came within an inch of Mitchell's face, he finally moved. As the son of the Healer's Guild, he was equally skilled in medicine and martial arts. He could move swiftly while being calm. In the blink of an eye, Mitchell's sharp, whiplike kick landed squarely on the face of the man leading the attack. The man weighing nearly 100 kilograms spat out a mouthful of blood. Seeming to defy gravity, he flew and crashed into Mike's Porsche. The hood crumpled and popped open, billowing a cloud of thick smoke. Howard, still in the driver's seat, was stunned. "Isn't Mr. Quinton a doctor? How is he also a martial artist?"

Chapter 8: Mitchell's a Martial Artist

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