?Chapter 210:

    Katelyn’s demeanor was casual, almost yful, as she faced the photographer with a half-smile. Yet, her eyes betrayed a stark coldness.

    Without the myriad of covert photos and rampant rumors, Vincent would never have been dragged into such a public controversy.

    The man who had taken the photos seemed disoriented, his shock apparent even behind the mask and hat he wore to conceal his identity.

    He was baffled by Katelyn’s sudden appearance. Did she leap from the staircase? he wondered silently, dismissing the thought as too fantastical, something more suited for a film scene.

    Katelyn advanced toward him deliberately. With each step, it felt as if she were literally stepping on his heart, his anxiety escting rapidly.

    He retreated, trembling, as Katelyn cornered him against the staircase.

    Katelyn extended her hand authoritatively.

    “Hand it over and answer my questions. Then, perhaps, I’ll let you go,” she stated firmly.

    The man resisted, clenching his teeth and concealing the camera further behind him.

    “What do you mean? I don’t understand,” he replied, feigning confusion.

    Recognizing his foreign ent, Katelyn’s expression hardened. “We need to talk now. If you won’t cooperate, expect consequences,” she warned.

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just let me go. Don’t block my way,” he responded, his tone shifting from hesitant to assertive.

    Despite witnessing her daring jump, he remained defiant, convinced that his physical prowess gave him an edge over her.

    He thought to himself, dismissing her as no real threat simply because of her gender.

    Keep reading at .c○m

    He scanned the area quickly—no cameras or bystanders in sight. He believed that if he could just force Katelyn away, he could escape this predicament unscathed.

    Katelyn observed every shift in the man’s expression, a yful gleam in her eyes as she adjusted her stance.

    It had been some time since she encountered someone bold enough to confront her directly. Recently, her interactions had been dominated by Neil and Lise’s provocations.

    The presence of this new adversary was somewhat refreshing. The man wasted no time,unching a forceful punch aimed at Katelyn’s face.

    With years ofprehensive training behind him, he was confident in his abilities. A hint of satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, believing he could swiftly end the confrontation.

    However, Katelyn effortlessly dodged, tilting her head slightly before counterattacking with a powerful punch directed at his armpit.

    Her movements—her dodge, her counterstrike, her rapid execution—surpassed the man’s expectations, drawing a pained cry from him.

    The blow left him reeling, erasing any previous smugness and recing it with outright horror.

    “You—” he gasped, unable to form a response, astounded by herbat proficiency.

    Katelyn’s eyes narrowed, her expression mocking. “Wanna continue?” she taunted.

    Trained in martial arts from a young age, Katelyn had mastered techniques designed to incapacitate an opponent swiftly. Her instructor had emphasized precision and efficiency—targeting the most vulnerable parts for maximum effect. Despite the physical strength disparities typically cited between men and women, Katelyn focused on skill over sheer force, a strategy that served her well in such confrontations.

    The man, driven by desperation and perhaps a bruised ego, ignored his difort and lunged at her again.

    “You’re asking for it,” Katelyn dered coolly, just before delivering a swift kick to his chest. The impact sent him sprawling backward. Before he could recover, Katelyn moved decisively.

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