"Hey!Back off my brother!"
Summer Knight glared daggers at Daniel Barron, her rosebud mouth quivering with rage. Yet even in anger, she looked less intimidating and more deliciously adorable.
Bare faced and dewy-skinned, she resembled a freshly bloomed camellia—unadorned yet effortlessly captivating.
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. "Step aside."
Angry as he was, he had no intention of laying a hand on a girl.
"No!"
Summer planted herself like a guardian angel. Her large eyes blazed, eyebrows knitted—a picture of defiant protection.
"Grandpa!Hurry!Someone’s picking on Alex!"
Seeing Daniel’s expression darken, she knew reasoning was futile and suddenly shouted toward the villa’s second floor.
Her voice carried. Old Mr. Barron emerged on the balcony, leaning on his cane.
