A Matrilocal Husband's Counterattack

Chapter 21: Don't Touch Her

"Whoosh—"

The brightly lit hallway suddenly dazzled everyone, making it hard to keep their eyes open.

Then, a group of men and women, reeking of alcohol and acting frivolously, swaggered in.

Trailing behind them were three black-suited bodyguards.

At the forefront was a long-haired youth in a skull-patterned shirt. Sporting an earring and exuding a sleazy vibe, his eyes gleamed with a sinister light.

Hands in his pockets, he swaggered a few steps forward before abruptly kicking Ricky out of his way.

"Bang—"

A chair toppled over, and Ricky hit the ground with a grunt. Several women screamed in panic and quickly stepped aside.

Writhing in pain, Ricky scrambled to his feet, cursing, "What's your problem? Why hit people?"

"A mutt blocking the road? It deserves a kick, not a bone for the New Year," the long-haired youth sneered before heading straight to the center of the room.

Furious, Ricky struggled to stand.

"Mr. Zacher?"

Recognizing the long-haired youth, Carolyn broke into a coy smile and rushed forward:

"You're finally here; we've been waiting for you."

She shoved the indignant Ricky aside and added, "Ricky, this is Mr. Zacher. You blocked his way, and you're mad he kicked you?"

Sophia quickly stepped forward to steady the staggering Ricky.

Meanwhile, Joyce moved closer to Mr. Zacher, chirping, "Hello, Mr. Zacher."

"Cut the chatter."

Hanson Zacher waved dismissively.

"Where's the beauty you showed me—the one looking to borrow money?"

"She's here, Mr. Zacher," Carolyn promptly replied, pulling Sophia forward. "Sophia, this is Mr. Zacher."

Sophia's brows furrowed slightly. Hanson's arrogance was already off-putting, but the financial crisis left her no choice. She forced a polite smile:

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Zacher."

Maintaining her poise, she continued, "I'm the one who needs a financial loan."

"Well, well, a real beauty! I thought the photo was filtered," Hanson exclaimed, his drunken eyes lighting up as he stepped closer.

"Not bad, not bad—at least a solid nine-point-nine."

"Miss Thompson, let's cut to the chase. Five million? No problem."

He smirked suggestively, spraying alcohol-laced breath:

"But it's nine out of thirteen. Borrow five million, and you take four and a half. In three months, pay me back six and a half million."

"Since you're so stunning, I'll even waive half a million. But for the next three months, you'll have to be available whenever I call."

His smile turned lecherous:

"Deal?"

His sleazy eyes roamed over Sophia's long legs, full of disrespect and domination.

The group of his companions erupted in laughter.

"Mr. Zacher, I'm sorry, but I can't borrow this money."

Before Ricky could speak, Sophia's face darkened:

"I'm here to borrow money, not sell myself."

His crude words disgusted her, and if not for Carolyn and Joyce's involvement, she would've slapped him right away.