Chapter 4

The tall man had just come to a stop when the short, stocky man beside me spoke up.

"Who the hell are you? What's this talk about you 'satisfying' her? Can't you see I'm already here? Get lost!"

The tall man shifted his gaze from me to the short, stocky man with a look of disdain.

"Me? Leave? Didn't you hear this beauty screaming for help? She's clearly disgusted by you. She doesn't want anything to do with you. Just get lost already!"

With that, the tall man reached out to grab me. The short, stocky man smacked the tall man's hand away and took a step forward, blocking me.

"Don't touch her! She's mine—stay away!"

The tall man laughed.

"That matchmaking flyer said she's single, urgently looking for a partner, and that the first to succeed gets her. Have you succeeded? Has she picked you? No? Then get out of the way—she's mine now!"

The tall man raised a hand and slapped the short, stocky man across the face before giving him a shove.

The short man staggered back, knocked off balance.

The tall man turned back to me, his lecherous smile creeping across his face again. Just like the short man earlier, his hand reached toward me.

But before he could touch me, the short man smacked his hand away and slapped him across the face. The sharp crack of the slap echoed, and the tall man's gaze snapped away from me.

The two men stared each other down, the tension palpable as they started shoving one another.

When the tall man had first appeared, I had already sunk into despair. I hadn't expected the two of them to be at odds with each other—and they had even started fighting. This turn of events gave me a glimmer of hope.

I didn't have time to celebrate, though. Clenching my jaw, I steadied myself and braced for action. Ignoring the pain in the back of my head, I swung my bag with all the strength I could muster.

The corner of the bag struck the tall man squarely on the back of his head. Unlike the short man's thick skin, the tall man wasn't as sturdy. With a groan, he clutched his head and crouched down in pain.

Seizing the moment, I swung my bag again, this time taking an upward trajectory. My bag slammed into the short man's groin.

He had been staring blankly at the tall man's sudden fall but was now doubled over, letting out a pained grunt as he fell to his knees in front of me.

"You disgusting pig! Serves you right for touching me!" I shouted.

With a final burst of anger, I kicked the short man in the face, knocking him flat on the ground.

Shaking and gasping for breath, I steadied myself on the railing and then hurried downstairs. As I ran, I pulled out my phone and pressed those three crucial numbers.

There was an iron gate at the bottom of the building—a gate I rarely used or locked. But this time, I shut it firmly behind me, trapping those two inside.

About ten minutes later, the police arrived.

The three of us were taken to the police station. At the police station, I finally learned where those two had come from. They had seen my supposed 'matchmaking flyer' at a local park.

The flyer had not only had my phone number, but had also included detailed personal information about me.

Worst of all, it had explicit slogans plastered on it:

'Lonely and desperate, yearning for relief.'

'Everything's ready in bed. I'm just waiting for you.'

'Urgently seeking a lover—the first to succeed, I'm yours to do with as you please!'

After seeing the flyer, the two men had called the number listed. The person on the other end had gleefully agreed after hearing their 'qualifications.'

They even assured them it was all real and gave them my address.

That was why they had come—and why they assumed I'd be waiting for them.

And the person who had answered their calls? It had been none other than Cynthia!