Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 1909

Chandler wrapped his arms around Helen and teased, "You sound a little bitter—are you jealous or something?"

"Dream on. I'm not jealous." Helen scrunched her nose, refusing to let the topic go. "But seriously, with legs like that, even I'd be tempted. Didn't you sneak a second glance?"

"I'm not interested," Chandler replied, giving her waist a playful pinch. "But if you dressed like that, I wouldn't mind stealing a peek. So, when do I get my chance, Mrs. Newton?"

"In the next life," Helen answered decisively, not about to give him the satisfaction.

"Then I'll make my reservations ahead of time," Chandler said with a sly grin, not ready to drop the subject. Even if it was the next life, he was determined to see her in a bodycon skirt.

"Alright, let's head home," he then said.

"What? It's still early. Aren't you supposed to be working?" Helen asked, half-expecting him to stay longer. She'd only planned to check on him, not to play the seductress.

"Your safety is at risk. Do you really think I'm in the mood to work?" Chandler replied.

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed her hand and led her toward the parking lot.

…

As the movie came to an end, the lights flickered on.

The two men in sunglasses stood up, only to notice a female student rising from Row Four, Seat Six. Without hesitation, they grabbed her and began firing off questions. "Where is she? Where's Kaylee?"

The student was taken aback. "What? I don't even know who you are! Let go of me—help! Someone's harassing me!"

The crowd around them quickly began to notice the scene. Sensing the growing attention, the two men released the student and quickly made their escape.

Worried about running into security, they made their way to the back door.

Once outside, one of the men immediately dialed a number. "Boss, we lost her."

The spitter rudely extended his hand. "Give it to me."

The man glanced down briefly before holding out his fist. "It's right here. Come and get it."

The spitter didn't anticipate what came next. He stepped closer, bending down to reach for the outstretched hand.

Before his fingers could graze it, the fist shot up with lightning speed. A solid punch connected directly with his face, sending him staggering backward. "Oh, shit!"

Seeing his comrade fall, the second man lunged forward, swinging a reckless punch.

The man smoothly ducked, evading the attack with ease. With a sharp counterstrike, he drove his fist into the attacker's stomach, propelling him over a meter backward.

"Foreigners really don't hold up well," he remarked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

He walked over to the collapsed men and delivered a final punch to each of them, ensuring they were completely out cold.