Balfour's unflinching demeanor indeed threw the kidnappers for a loop.
After all, the fate of both him and the young girl beside him was firmly in their grasp; they had no reason to fear Balfour.
The leader of the gang, known to the others simply as Boss, sported a terrifying scar slashing across his face. He toyed with a sharp switchblade, tapping it provocatively against Balfour's cheek and sneered, "I doubt you'd dare pull any stunts with us watching, huh? Where's the card? Which pocket? Hand over the cash, and maybe we'll cut you loose."
Victoria shivered beside him, feeling the kidnappers closing in. She longed to edge closer to Balfour for comfort. Though Balfour’s blindfold had been removed, she was deemed inconsequential, and thus, ignored.
Her subtle attempts to squirm closer angered the Boss, who struck her across the face, sending her crashing to the ground.
"What do you think you're doing, you little tramp? Can't keep still under my watch? Be careful, or I'll drag you out and put a bullet in your head! Damn, I hate whiny brats – all tears and no sense. You think this is some kind of playdate?"
A gaunt man, eager with ill intent, sidled up and licked his lips. "Boss, if you're sick of this dame, why not let us take her for a bit of fun?"
Balfour hadn't expected such vile thoughts from them. His face paled with urgency. "I can give you money. My grandfather can prepare a hefty sum. But our safety is paramount. You can't touch this girl."
Victoria, floored by the man's blow, didn't dare make a sound, whimpering softly, fearing that any louder cries would incite the gang's wrath.
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