Chapter 3 - THE WHITE KNIGHT
Jack was just walking out of the hotel lobby when the chaos erupted.
Dressed in a tailored white suit, he looked like a man without a care in the world.
But his relaxed demeanor was a carefully constructed lie.
He saw the little girl screaming. He saw the maid charging.
His trained instincts took over before his conscious mind could even process the scene.
He dropped his coffee, the hot liquid splashing against his polished black shoes.
He launched himself off the steps, a white blur moving with lethal intent.
The man in the dark suit looked up, surprised by the sudden interference.
It was a fatal distraction. Jack tackled him around the waist.
The impact was brutal. Both men slammed onto the unforgiving concrete.
The dark-suited man grunted as all the air was forced from his lungs.
Jack didn't give him a chance to recover. He scrambled, pinning the man down.
Fists flew, connecting with sickening thuds against bone and flesh.
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Jack's eyes were blazing with a furious, protective fire.
He drove his knee into the attacker's chest, ensuring he wouldn't rise again.
