Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 2195

Margaret had already heard Natasha was back, so she expected Jim to drag her in soon. However, instead of Natasha being captured, what came through the hall was Jim himself, dragged across the floor like a rag doll.

Margaret's face twisted with fury as she shot up from her seat at the far end of the hall.

"Who the hell are you? Who gave you the nerve to lay a hand on my Langley family's men?"

Andrew said flatly, "Who I am doesn't matter. I came to tell you that from now on, Natasha has nothing to do with the Langley family. And her family has no ties with you either."

Margaret's voice thundered, "You insolent brat! How dare you meddle in our family's affairs?! Are you courting death? I see now… Natasha dragged you here to stand up for her, didn't she? Fine, if you want to play her hero, then I'll make sure neither of you gets what you want. This bitch will never escape the Langley family's grasp… not in this lifetime!"

Andrew frowned and flung Jim onto the ground. "What, do you want to end up just like this piece of trash? Listen, old woman, I don't want to hurt you because of your age, but my patience has limits."

Margaret slammed her cane forward, pointing at him. "Such arrogance! You really think I, and the entire Langley family, fear you? Don't think a little strength gives you the right to shout in front of me. Fine, I'll crush you first, and then I'll make Natasha suffer until she begs for death!"

With that, Margaret's frail-looking body suddenly shot across the hall. Her cane sliced through the air like a weapon, carrying a vicious wind aimed straight at Andrew's face.

Natasha gasped and cried out, "Darling, watch out! That cane is rigged with hidden blades!"

A loud clank echoed in the room.

Andrew dodged, but the cane's tips snapped open to reveal sharp steel edges. Margaret cackled as she whipped the weapon across Andrew's arm.

"Bold little brat! To speak to me that way, I don't care who you are… I'll rip your arm right off!" she shrieked, already imagining the satisfying snap of bone.

Yet, instead of snapping, Andrew's sleeve tore and nothing else. His skin had not even been scratched.

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