Lena’s face flushed red with embarassment, her heart hammering against her ribs as the full weight of the danger she’d just walked into crashed over her. “Sorry… but I can’t.” Her voice trembled. “What do you mean you can’t? You’re a grown woman. Get on your knees, chubby bitch.” George’s voice snapped like a whip. “George!” the woman beside him protested. He whirled on her. “Bitch, what?” In the next heartbeat, Tarzan was there—looming over him. Before George could react, Tarzan’s hand fisted in his hair, yanking tight and painful. With terrifying strength, he slammed him downward. George’s knees cracked against the marble floor, the sound reverberating through the stunned room. Everyone froze. "Damn." Tim muttered. George’s face twisted in rage, fists clenching at his sides. “You think you can humili—” A lightning-fast punch snapped his head back, dropping him flat, a strong of blood drip from his nose. Before he could recover from that hit, Tarzan’s leather shoe
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