From a distance, the sight of one striding ahead while the other chased after was almost comical.
"Hey, what's up with Mr. Vincent and his girlfriend?"
"Can't you tell?
Playing a little game of chase, that's all."
"Tsk, tsk.
Guess the old saying's true—even the toughest steel bends for love, huh?"
"You were told to study more, but you insisted on being a pig.
That's called 'tempering steel into supple silk.'"
"Same difference.
Either way, it means brother Vincent's done for."
"Can't argue with that."
... Vicente's footsteps came to a halt in front of the car.
Hearing the hurried footsteps closing in behind him, a flicker of resignation flashed in his eyes before he finally turned around.
"You—"
Melissa hadn't expected Vicente to stop so abruptly.
Unable to brake in time, she slammed straight into his chest.
The hard, unyielding muscle felt like running into a brick wall.
