Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 21

Clara had not even processed what was happening before the man's fist slammed brutally into one of the thugs' heads.

A pig-like squeal of pain echoed through the corridor.

Julian raised his leg and kicked the other man right in the crotch.

In an instant, screams and the sickening thud of blows filled the hallway.

"Boss, I didn't know she was your girl! We're sorry, please stop hitting us... stop..."

Julian Lowell's eyes were bloodshot, his cold, handsome face clouded with a murderous gloom.

He delivered another vicious punch, his voice as frigid as ice.

"What did you just call her? Say it again if you dare."

With that, he smashed his fist into the man's mouth, sending blood flying.

Huddled in the corner, Seraphina Shaw feared he might actually kill the men. Crying, she hugged his lean waist from behind and tried to pull him back.

Choking on her tears, she pleaded, "Julian, stop... please stop... I'm scared..."

Hearing her faint little "scared," Julian finally stayed his hand. He kicked the two men over one last time, then turned and pulled Seraphina tightly into his embrace. With his blood-stained hand, he gently and repeatedly stroked her long hair and back.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did they touch you?"

He carefully cradled her face, his eyes full of absolute cherishment.

Her eyes red-rimmed, Seraphina buried her face in his chest and whimpered, "I sprained my ankle. It hurts so much. Take me to the hospital..."

Julian patted the back of her head, shot a freezing glare at the two men on the floor, and swept her up into his arms, striding away.

The corridor plunged into silence...

Behind them, Clara Vance stood frozen, watching the scene as if struck by a spell.

It was the first time she had ever seen Julian in a physical fight.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced—back when they were together, he had taken her to a business dinner.

At the table, a few executives mistook her for a hostess he had brought along to pour drinks and threw out some crude, degrading jokes.

It was vile.

It was disgusting.

But... Julian had merely laughed it off.

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