‘I’m the only heir of the Holden family!’ the drunk man shouted. ‘Wait till I tell my grandpa! When he comes for you, you’ll be sorry you were ever born!’
Darya snorted out a laugh. ‘What are you? A pre-schooler? What kind of a man goes home crying to his grandfather when he loses a fight? What are you gonna tell him? That you got beat up by two girls?’
The man cowered when Darya raised her arm.
Darya clicked her tongue. ‘Loser.’
When she spotted the man reaching inside his jacket, she broke his wrist.
He screamed like a little girl.
The commotion was starting to draw a crowd.
The bar’s manager made a belated appearance and tried to mediate.
At the other end of the hallway, hidden behind a huge potted fern, a man raised his Nikon DSLR and kept clicking away.
He
