"Let go of me first." Isidore had come alone, as the kidnappers had demanded, without a gun. Sensing that his opponents wouldn't be easy to deal with, his intention was to free his hands in preparation for a fight. However, Eloise clung to him like an octopus with suction cups, and he couldn't shake her off.
"They gave me alcohol, laced with much tonic," she said, both accusing and pouting.
Isidore's gaze toward the man in the white vest instantly turned murderous, a hundredfold intensity in his eyes. With a surge of rage, he lifted Eloise's delicate frame, and with the hand freed from her grip, he struck the man in the white vest across the face with enough force to shatter stone.
The man in the white vest was hit so hard that blood poured from his nose and mouth. Enraged by Eloise's distorted accusations, he covered his bloodied mouth and hoarsely shouted, "You little bitch, stop lying! You drank the alcohol yourself, no one forced you!"
Eloise quickly added, "They didn't tell me it was a tonic for strengthening and nourishing the body." Then, Isidore then raised his long leg and delivered another kick to the man in the white vest's face. The man fell backward, his mouth spitting out broken teeth and blood.
The series of movements to subdue the enemy was seamless, his sharp profile like a cold, glinting blade. Eloise's heart raced. She realized that after spending so much time with Isidore, her tolerance for such bloody scenes had greatly increased. At this moment, she not only felt no fear, but also found herself thinking that this man, who struck with such precision, was truly handsome—extremely handsome.
Isidore was about to advance further, but a small hand reached toward his waist, sensually rubbing the edge of his underwear, the spot where muscle met fabric — at what should have been a serious moment of combat. "..." Eloise continued to cling to his side, her eyes hazy with moisture as she leaned her head against his shoulder, "Isel..."
Isidore's tall frame tensed, his gaze slowly lowering to find Eloise's cheeks flushed with a delicate redness, her face exuding a seductive charm. He had truly never seen her like this before. Just one glance, and he couldn't help but blush. He quickly shifted his gaze away, forcing his expression back to seriousness. "Get down. We have business to attend to."
"Oh, what's so important?" Under the influence of the medicinal wine, Eloise refused to let go of him, continuing to cling to him, humming and whining.
Before him stood enemies whose threat had yet to dissipate, and the environment around them remained uncertain. In the past, such situations would have prompted him to be on high alert. But never before had he faced such a scenario, with a clingy woman draped over him.
On the road where he had driven, nearly speeding to the point of liftoff to come to the rescue, he never could have imagined that what awaited him would be such a bizarre scene. "Stop touching me." He forced his gaze to stay fixed on the man in the white vest, who was barely clinging to life.
Of course, an unruly hand turned his head, and a soft, sweet little mouth pressed against his for a kiss. "Forget about him, I'm going to overheat!" Her voice was incredibly soft and sweet.
"You..." Isidore shifted uncomfortably the moment she released him. "Get down first." "I won't!" She pressed her burning forehead against his neck and gave it a gentle twist. "I must deal with him first!" He barely managed to evade Eloise's playful kiss.
Isidore could tell that the man in the white tank top was playing dead, waiting for the moment when he lost his focus in the struggle to strike back. Amid the fleeting, chaotic thoughts, he even doubted whether Eloise had been turned against him, using her charm to unsettle him, conspiring with others to bring him to this point.
Fortunately, he was never lacking in the good habit of delivering a finishing blow. The only obstacle in his way was the octopus-like grip on him: "You handle your own business, it's none of my concern!" Though the words were spoken, her arms and legs showed no sign of loosening, holding him tightly.
In that moment, Isidore found himself completely immobilized: "You..." A faint white light flickered before his eyes, and Isidore staggered slightly. With a warning tone, he said, "Eloise, you..." But then, he gave up.
Thus, Isidore allowed Eloise to hold him, slowly moving forward while keeping a wary eye on the man in the white tank top. However, Eloise was far from still—her embrace grew ever closer, and she even began to murmur unclear compliments to him. Those ambiguous words made Isidore's heart tingle. Yet, under the influence of alcohol, Eloise gradually quieted, though her grip on him remained unchanged. She was breathing in a rhythmic pattern.
This subtle, rhythmic sound only made the surrounding silence more pronounced, so still that even the sound of footsteps seemed imperceptible.
The sound of footsteps? Eloise, in a daze, lifted her head just in time to see the disfigured man in the white charging toward them from behind. In that fleeting moment, as her pupils widened, Isidore seemed to have eyes on the back of his head. With a slight crouch, still in their embrace, he dodged the punch from the man in the white.
The man in the white hadn't expected Isidore, still holding Eloise, to possess such agility. For a moment, he lost control and nearly crashed into the wall. Isidore was about to focus on dealing with the oblivious man, gently setting Eloise down.
A look of urgency flashed across Eloise's small face. The sudden emptiness in her arms left her unwilling to accept it. Fuming, she jumped up and blocked his way. Isidore cast a helpless glance at her, gritting his teeth as he lifted her up once more.
Eloise finally stopped causing a fuss. Isidore said nothing more. He wrapped Eloise's legs around his waist, turned to the side, and delivered an elbow strike that landed squarely on the head of the man in the white tank top, who had turned to face him after regaining his footing. The blow was delivered with such force and frustration that the man in the white crumpled to the ground like a torn sack, lying there in a heap. Isidore pressed his foot down, silencing even the man's attempts to gasp for air.
Eloise's first reaction was, surprisingly: Finally, that troublesome pest is out of the way! She eagerly tightened her grip around Isidore's neck, beginning to kiss and nibble at him.
She waited, hoping for Isidore to take control with a ruthless display of dominance. Isidore, however, remained cautious, his gaze scanning the surroundings as he hesitated, his voice almost reluctant: "Are there any of their people inside?" Eloise suppressed the urge to roll her eyes: "There was one, but I took care of him before you arrived."
Isidore, though still trusting her for the time being, could no longer resist. He slammed her against the wall with a sharp "thud," taking a deep breath before forcefully thrusting forward.
