CHAPTER 92: CHAPTER 92: CRUSHING DEFEAT

Alexander Parker couldn’t stand hearing the words "my woman." Isabella Weaver was clearly his; who did this man think he was?

He bent down to pick up a brick, tossed it in his hand, and in the next second, hurled it fiercely at Harry Hunter’s head.

Harry’s expression was icy, and he caught the brick with lightning speed before throwing it back. Simultaneously, his foot swept across the ground, sending up a splash of rainwater.

Through the misty rain, Harry’s punches flashed like shadows, pounding onto Alexander Parker’s body.

A dagger suddenly thrust in from the side, but Harry grabbed it with a reverse grip. With a forceful grip, Alexander Parker let out a muffled grunt, and the dagger fell into the muddy rainwater.

The drizzling rain had stopped sometime without notice; the gloom had dispersed, and the evening sun on the horizon was dazzlingly bright, casting a gentle light through the clouds.

In this glow, Harry Hunter dispassionately stepped on top of Alexander Parker, "Touch my wife once more, and you’ll get hit once more."

Alexander lay in the mud and water, in a sorry state. Not only was his nose bleeding, but now there were bloodstains at the corners of his mouth and eyes. One arm was completely immobile, the fallen dagger lay nearby, yet he lacked the strength to even pick it up due to the intense pain.

It’s just that his endurance far exceeded that of an ordinary person; anyone else would definitely be screaming incessantly at this moment, possibly even fainting from the pain, but he remained silent.

He had anticipated that Harry would be strong, but hadn’t expected him to be this strong!

He hadn’t even had a chance to strike before finding his openings exploited, rendered utterly defenseless!

The shock in Alexander Parker’s heart was beyond words. He wanted to stand but accidentally tugged at his wounds, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

This man was ruthless and extremely skilled. Although there were barely any visible injuries on his skin, the internal injuries were severe!

With a fierce gaze, enduring the crippling pain, he asked, "Who are you? I’ve never heard of you before, but with such skills, you can’t be a nobody!"

"No one special, just Isabella Weaver’s husband."

Harry Hunter responded coldly, then turned and walked away.

Isabella watched him walk towards her, step by step. His clothes did not have a single crease, and even the rhythm of his breathing hadn’t changed in the slightest. Behind him lay a defeated, bloodied Alexander Parker.

Her eyes, clear as black and white, were filled with shock!

In nineteen years, she had never seen Alexander Parker defeated!

But now he was! And utterly defeated!

Isabella forgot to blink, staring blankly at Harry as if seeing him for the first time.

The spectacular sunset illuminated his indifferent, cold face, like a Prince emerging from a fairytale world, not only handsome and noble but possessing an overwhelming combat power.

Harry Hunter sat in the car, leaned over to buckle Isabella Weaver’s seatbelt, and drove away calmly and quietly.

In the rearview mirror, Alexander Parker was slowly standing up from the ground, staring at them with a sullen face.

Isabella couldn’t care less about Alexander Parker; as long as he wasn’t dead, with his cockroach-like vitality, he’d be hopping around causing trouble again in just a few days.

All her thoughts were on Harry Hunter.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Really? You’re not lying to me? I saw my cousin pull out a knife!"

"Really."

Isabella couldn’t believe anyone could walk away unscathed from Alexander Parker, so she was still a bit worried, "Then take off your clothes so I can see."

Harry suddenly grabbed her hand, "Sure, I’ll take them off at home."