The Windfalls of Love (Roxanne and Harrison) novel Chapter 322

Evelyn was protected by vigilant security personnel.

The security at her company was flawless, a fortress never breached—until today's interview descended into chaos, and blood was spilled.

Seated on the plush sofa, Evelyn was moments away from facing the media's barrage. The crew was in place—cameramen, lighting technicians, sound engineers, makeup artists, assistants, and Evelyn's personal secretary and bodyguard stood at the ready.

Then, a scream pierced the air.

A man burst forth, brandishing a gleaming blade, and plunged it into the back of the lighting technician. The blade entered white and emerged red.

The room erupted into screams.

The man, fueled by some unfathomable rage, withdrew the knife and sought out his next victim, slashing wildly.

Amidst the bedlam, Evelyn's bodyguards were swift, forming a protective half-circle shield in front of her.

"What are you protecting me for? Save them!" Evelyn bellowed.

But the bodyguards remained steadfast. Their duty was singular: to ensure Evelyn's safety. Their positions, their focus—it was all predetermined for situations just like this. They could not afford to falter; their mission was to shield Evelyn at all costs.

Even as their boss ordered them to assist the others, they did not waver.

The assailant was blinded by vengeance. Holding the blood-red knife, he continued to search for the next target.

Locking onto a terrified female staff member, just as he was about to crazily charge forward, Evelyn made a quick run and dashed towards him. Another flying roundhouse kick landed squarely on the face of the assailant. He hit the ground, spitting blood and teeth.

Evelyn swiftly pinned him down, controlling his arms, subduing the threat with practiced ease.

As the richest woman in Seraphim Haven, her reputation as a formidable businesswoman wasn't just for show. Beyond a sharp mind, she had excellent physical skills, honed alongside Harrison, in their regular sparring sessions. She was a true embodiment of "anything you can do, I can do better."

Her decisive and stylish action quelled the chaos, though her bodyguards were left sweating with relief—and guilt at their near dereliction.

Turning to her team, she commanded, "What are you waiting for? Take down this man!"

As they complied, someone wrestled the knife from the man's grip. The man, now weaponless, was pinned to the floor, his face grinding against the carpet as he snarled, expressing his hatred. "If they don't give me a way out, nobody gets to live."