Betrayed, But Not Defeated novel Chapter 82

As the thought crossed Frederick's mind, he hurried forward. "Ms. Walsh—"

"What do you want?" Jennifer snapped, her voice sharp with anger. Before Frederick could react, her hand lashed out, delivering a crisp slap across his face.

The sound of the slap echoed through the hall, drawing the attention of everyone present.

Frederick was stunned. Jennifer had just been playing coy with him, and he didn't expect her to suddenly turn on him like this! And worse, there was no way to explain this away—no matter what he said, it would only make him look guilty!

Jennifer didn't bother explaining. Covering her face with one hand, she spun on her heel and ran from the scene, leaving the crowd buzzing with speculation. Every eye in the room shifted to Daniel, their collective curiosity and judgment heavy in the air.

Daniel frowned slightly.

He couldn't fathom what Jennifer was thinking, but her actions had just handed him an opportunity he couldn't ignore.

Without a word, Daniel strode forward and drove his foot into Frederick's stomach, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Daniel! What do you think you're doing?" Hugo roared, his voice trembling with fury as he saw his precious son being beaten.

Before he could charge forward, Conor stepped between them. "Mr. Quinton, if I may—this isn't overseas. Your son really needs to work on some of his bad habits!"

"Get out of my way, Conor!" Hugo barked, raising a hand to shove him aside.

But before he could move, a burly man with a dark expression stepped forward, blocking him completely. Conor had clearly anticipated trouble and made his preparations in advance.

Meanwhile, Daniel continued kicking Frederick. This man had been mocking him from the moment he arrived, acting as if Daniel wouldn't dare retaliate!

If Frederick and Hugo had stayed quiet and kept to themselves, Daniel might have let things slide. But since he had taken the first step, Daniel had no intention of holding back!

After a few more kicks, Daniel adjusted his coat and said coolly, "Apologies."

Daniel's strikes were precise—controlled just enough to make Frederick look utterly battered without crossing the line into serious harm.