The Scorned Heiress: No More Mercy novel Chapter 857

The familiar figure is none other than Coen, who had driven off just minutes ago. Appearing seemingly out of thin air, he wastes no time. With a vicious, calculated kick, he sends the closest attacker flying backward, instantly shielding Bianca behind his body.

"Why did you come back?" Bianca gasps, eyes wide.

"I'll explain later. Let's deal with them first."

Coen doesn't have the luxury of a long conversation. He locks his focus on the remaining assailants. The men are clearly targeting Bianca, but Coen's sudden arrival completely ruins their plan. Realizing they've lost the element of surprise, the attackers refuse to engage in a drawn-out fight. They quickly fall back and vanish into the shadows.

Trembling behind Coen, Bianca watches the men disappear around the corner like ghosts. Her heart is still hammering violently against her ribs. Only when she is absolutely certain they are gone does the adrenaline crash, draining the strength from her legs. She slumps forward, nearly collapsing onto the concrete.

Coen reacts instantly, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and hauling her flush against his chest.

"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

His voice holds a tight, barely concealed edge of panic. He looks her up and down, checking for injuries, his gaze catching on her wind-tangled hair and the angry red blisters forming on her ankles from running in heels.

Bianca shakes her head, gasping for air. As the sheer terror ebbs away, the relief of surviving hits her like a tidal wave. Tears prick her eyes, spilling over without warning.

Sniffling, her voice thick with emotion, she whimpers, "I... I'm fine... but they scared me to death. Why were they coming after me?"

She genuinely can't understand it. She's just a regular socialite. Sure, she loves checking out handsome men, but she has always been a law-abiding citizen. She hasn't crossed anyone dangerous. Why on earth would a group of professional thugs target her?

"Why did you take the long way home?" he counters. "You were only a few steps away."

"Uh, I wanted to get some fresh air, so I took a detour."

"Do you have any idea what time it is? Taking a detour for fresh air in the middle of the night—couldn't you pick a better time? Don't ever do that again. Don't assume this neighborhood is actually safe."

"Okay, I get it," she mumbles, properly chastised. Guiltily, she completely drops her interrogation about why he came back. She realizes she can't blindly trust the local security anymore; if another crisis hits, she has no idea how she'd handle it.

Coen walks her all the way up her driveway, waiting until she is safely locked inside before returning to the main road to call a new driver.