Chapter 118: Chapter 118 Nice Guy
Liam leaned back in his seat, his fingers lightly brushing over the rim of his wine glass as he looked Ann directly in the eyes. "Yeah," he said simply. "You heard that right. I’m ending school this year. I can’t waste a whole year bullshitting."
Ann tilted her head, blinking slowly as his words settled in. But instead of shock, she gave him a sly smile. "That would mean you’re more available, right?" she said, her voice low and teasing.
He nodded, a small grin pulling at his lips.
"Mmm," Ann hummed, clearly enjoying the idea. She set down her spoon and leaned back in her seat, gracefully reaching for her wine glass. The deep red liquid shimmered under the restaurant’s soft golden lighting. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving his.
As Liam watched her, he noticed a bit of sauce smeared on her lower jaw, just near the corner of her lips. With a chuckle, he leaned forward, reaching out slowly across the table. Ann paused, her lips parting slightly in surprise as Liam’s hand brushed against her cheek and wiped the sauce away gently.
But just as his hand lingered on her soft skin, the restaurant doors burst open with a loud, obnoxious bang.
Liam didn’t even have to turn fully to know who it was. He sighed under his breath as he glanced toward the entrance.
Crimson Hand.
Four members of the gang had entered the upscale restaurant like they owned the place, laughing loudly, one of them shoving the other in a playful way that sent a waiter stumbling. Liam rolled his eyes. Can’t they just enter like normal human beings?
He recognized them—low-level goons, not worth the trouble. He had no beef with these particular guys, and as long as they didn’t act stupid, he wasn’t going to start anything. Liam turned back to Ann, brushing off the disruption.
He continued eating and flirted shamelessly with her, making her blush deeper with every compliment and glance. Her cheeks were a soft pink now, her lips curled in a helpless smile, and her eyes sparkled every time he teased her.
Meanwhile, the Crimson Hand members were seated a few tables away, finally settling down and ordering their food. They were mid-meal when one of them—tall, broad, and sporting a jagged scar over his brow—suddenly paused. His eyes had locked onto Ann.
He elbowed his friend beside him, whispering, "Hey, have you guys ever seen a girl as beautiful as that one over there?"
The others followed his gaze.
From where they sat, Ann’s side profile was visible. Her long, dark hair cascaded in silky waves down her back, the strands catching the soft lighting. Her flawless porcelain skin practically glowed, and the gentle curve of her neck flowed into her slender shoulders. Her back was straight, elegant, and poised. The way her waist dipped in was hypnotic, and from their angle, the curve of her ass was unmistakable, even seated. She looked like a goddess who had decided to grace earth for a moment.
"Goddamn," one of them breathed. "I’ve never had a girl like that in my life."
"No one in your entire generation has," another snapped.
"She’s never gonna fall for you, bro. You’re ugly as fuck."
"Your mum’s the ugly one, bitch."
"Say that again and I swear—"
They started bickering amongst themselves, trying to one-up each other, arguing like immature schoolboys. Liam didn’t even look their way. He just sipped his wine and chuckled silently. They were idiots, but harmless—for now.
Until one of them decided to ruin it.
The one with the scar—clearly the boldest of the group—kept staring. His gaze darkened. "Imagine that bitch riding my cock," he muttered, a sick grin spreading across his face.
Liam’s expression darkened instantly. He sighed heavily. Why did someone always have to take it too far?
Scarface pushed his chair back with a screech, standing up.
"H, don’t," one of his friends hissed, grabbing at his arm. "Just leave her alone, man."
"Must you stress every beautiful lady you see?" another groaned.
To their credit, the other three actually seemed annoyed by his actions. Liam noted that silently. Maybe not everyone in the Crimson Hand was a total piece of shit.
But H didn’t listen. He shrugged them off and started walking toward Ann.
Liam could feel the air shift.
H slowed as he neared the table, putting on a cocky grin as he stared down at Ann. He greeted her with a slimy voice, his eyes clearly locked on her waist, drinking in every inch of her like she was a meal laid out just for him. His eyes dipped even lower, pausing at the way her hips sat so perfectly on the chair. He licked his lips—actually licked them—and Liam watched his eyes trail over Ann’s curves like a starving wolf.
Liam’s hand twitched.
Then he dropped the wine glass in his hand with a light thud and stood up slowly.
"Scram," he said, his voice sharp and low.
Ann blinked in surprise and turned toward H, only now realizing someone had approached.
H glanced at Liam and laughed, not fully understanding what he was dealing with. "Chill, bro. I just wanna talk to the lady."
Liam didn’t blink. "You’ve got five seconds to disappear before you leave this place without your teeth."
The smile on H’s face faded a bit.
The restaurant had gone quiet.
The other Crimson Hand members were already pulling out their wallets and preparing to leave—they knew how this could go. H’s hand twitched slightly, but Liam didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just stared at him like a predator.
And that stare said everything.
One of the men from the Crimson Hand, a broad-shouldered guy with short dreads and a thick scar running across his cheek, rushed forward to grab H by the arm. "Leave them alone, man. They’re just students," he said, trying to pull him away. His tone was more annoyed than concerned.
But H wasn’t letting go.
He yanked his arm away roughly, shoving his comrade back. "Don’t touch me," H snapped, eyes blazing with pride and something darker. He pointed at Liam, then at Ann. "I need to teach this pretty cunt a lesson."
Liam remained seated, calm and composed, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his wine glass. His eyes stayed fixed on H, expression unreadable.
Ann, however, was feeling it. A sudden headache throbbed at her temples, an eerie sign she only got when she was truly pissed off. She hated it when people tried to mess with Liam, especially out of nowhere. She turned to H, still polite despite her growing irritation. "Please... just back off. We’re not looking for trouble."
H snickered, eyes darting between her and Liam. This wasn’t even about Ann anymore. It was about pride. Liam had humiliated him with just a few words, and now he needed to save face. "I’m gonna remove his fucking teeth," he growled, his voice loud enough to attract a few glances from nearby tables.
Liam finally stood up.
There was a small gasp from one of the waitresses watching in the corner. H’s fist was already coming straight for Liam’s face, all brute force and no technique. But Liam simply tilted his head to the side. Time slowed.
Liam watched the fist pass within inches of his cheek, wind trailing behind it.
Then, like he was resetting a position, Liam brought his head back to its original place just as H tried to retract his hand. Before anyone could process what just happened, Liam’s fist shot upward in a sharp, fluid motion.
CRACK.
H’s mouth exploded with blood and teeth as his eyes rolled back. The force of the punch lifted him slightly off the ground before his body crumbled to the floor like a sack of cement. He fell backwards, crashing into the table behind him, completely unconscious.
The entire restaurant went silent.
Chairs scraped slightly as people leaned back. A fork dropped somewhere. 𝓷ℴ𝓿𝓹𝓾𝓫.𝓬ℴ𝓶
The other three men from Crimson Hand just stood there, frozen. Liam didn’t look like much — too pretty. But now they saw clearly: this wasn’t just any student. He had dropped H, one of the more aggressive of them, like he was swatting a fly.
Liam crouched next to the fallen H, casually opening his wallet.
He removed all the cash inside, flipped the wallet closed, then stood back up. He turned to a nearby maid who had been standing in shock. "For the food," he said, voice smooth and calm, as he dropped the cash into her hand. "And for the damage."
The waitress blinked, then slowly nodded. H’s fall had snapped the edge of the table, and a plate had shattered on impact. She didn’t even care about the broken table anymore.
Liam dusted off his pants and stretched slightly. That had felt good.
He turned to Ann. "Ready?"
She smiled at him, her irritation gone now that the problem was taken care of. She took his hand. As they stepped out of the restaurant, the other three gang members still didn’t say a word. They just watched.
"Your hand is red, Liam," Ann said as they walked.
"Not as red as I’ll make you when we get home," Liam replied with a cocky smirk.
Ann flushed and playfully kicked his leg. "Shut up, Liam! We’re outside."
"Ouch! You didn’t have to kick me, though!" he exclaimed with a small laugh.
Inside the restaurant, the three men were still in stunned silence.
"Did he really just—"
"Yeah. He did."
"And now he’s back to flirting like nothing happened."
They looked at H, who was still lying motionless on the floor.
"That dude’s a demon in pretty boy skin."
None of them disagreed.
Outside, the city breeze brushed against their skin as Ann and Liam strolled away, Liam’s hand still warm around hers. The tension was gone, and so was the problem. As far as Liam was concerned, it was just another nice day.
A nice man just payed for his meal so he was thanksful.