Jagger brought his foot down, aiming to crush Torrin, but Torrin was faster. He twisted aside, grabbing Jagger’s ankle and using the momentum to flip himself upright, slamming Jagger down in his place.
“Son of a bitch,” Torrin muttered, pinning Jagger’s upper body and raising his fist to smash it into his terrified face.
But before his second punch could land, a bodyguard’s kick connected squarely with his side. Torrin lost his balance and fell backward, hitting the floor hard.
Lucius approached slowly, his expression cold and unreadable. He looked down at the struggling Torrin, then deliberately raised his foot and pressed it firmly onto Torrin’s head, grinding it into the floor.
“Feeling tough now?” he sneered.
Seeing the situation spiral out of control and with no sign of Haskell, Avril knew she had to act. “Mr. Lincoln,” she said, her voice steady, “I suggest you think this through. Is your uncle really worth making enemies of both Larissa and the Dillon family? You know as well as I do that Larissa isn’t someone to be trifled with, and neither is the head of the Dillon family.”
Torrin, still pinned under Lucius’s boot, managed to turn his head. “Shut up! This has nothing to do with you!”
Avril fell silent, exasperated.
Jagger, seizing the opportunity, scrambled to his feet. “Lucius, that Palmer brat needs a lesson too! She said our family would regret crossing that bitch Larissa!”

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