Ivy staggered back in shock, then quickly stepped forward in an attempt to grab Balfour’s hand, desperately trying to stop his escalating fury.
“Balfour, what the hell are you doing? Stop it, right now!”
Ryan got to his feet, his temper flaring, glaring with eyes that threatened to retaliate…
Ivy knew all too well that Balfour’s skills were unmatched; Ryan didn’t stand a chance.
To prevent the situation from spiraling out of control, Ivy threw caution to the wind and positioned herself in front of Ryan, clutching Balfour tightly, finally making him stop his assault. “Balfour, you’ve got it all wrong! Cool down, just let me explain.”
“Get out of here, I’ve got this.” Ivy turned back to warn Ryan, but before she could finish her sentence, Balfour pulled her away stiffly.
Clearly in a huffing rage, Balfour’s grip on Ivy’s wrist was painfully tight.
“Ouch—damn it, Balfour, what’s gotten into you? Let go of me.”
Ivy stumbled along behind him, her other hand wrestling with Balfour’s wrist, trying to break free from his iron grasp.
Balfour was an imposing force, a veritable iceberg on the move.
The rest of the crew lowered their heads, not daring to catch his eye for fear that one look could cost them their livelihoods.
Balfour didn’t go far. Upon reaching the next vacant room, he pulled Ivy inside and slammed the door shut with a thunderous bang.
After a fierce struggle, Ivy finally wrenched her hand free from Balfour’s vice-like grip.
She immediately stood opposite him, rubbing her reddened wrist, her face a mask of incredulous anger. “Balfour, what are you doing here? What the hell is all this about?”
“You’re asking me what I’m doing? Maybe you should take a hard look at what you’re doing first!”
Balfour had seen them together, so close, and it had ignited a firestorm inside him.
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