Chapter 117 Fighting Over Her
Austin had checked Zachary's information during the auction and found no news of a marriage with Winona, only scandals with another woman.
It seemed that Zachary was not a good man!
And with both heading toward divorce, his current actions amounted to nothing more than harassment.
With that in mind, Austin regained his righteous indignation. He leaned back and said, "Can't you see she doesn't want anything to do with you? Aren't you the scion of a wealthy family? Why don't you show some respect?"
A turbulent gloom churned in Zachary's eyes. "Who are you to interfere in our affairs?"
His voice was low, and each word was pronounced with chilling clarity. He appeared to be a gentleman in his suit and tie, yet there emanated from him an innate, bloody violence.
None of the men could stand such provocation—especially when mutual distaste was already in abundance. It was unclear who moved first, but they suddenly came to blows!
Punches flew with brutal force, and the sound alone was enough to strike fear.
Austin landed a punch on Zachary's left cheek while simultaneously receiving a harsh kick to his abdomen, causing him to stagger backward several steps. Despite the cushioning effect of his muscles, he felt as if all his internal organs had been jolted out of place.
He inhaled sharply from the pain and raised an eyebrow in surprise as he looked at Zachary. It had become quite rare for anyone to land a blow on him in one-on-one confrontations.
This man, Zachary, was unexpectedly formidable.
Austin clicked his tongue, shedding the nonchalant demeanor from his face. With a slight arch to his upper body, he gestured toward Zachary. "Come at me again."
Zachary wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he lowered his gaze to remove his jacket, untied his tie, and tossed the cufflinks from his shirt onto the ground. He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt to allow for more freedom of movement and to prevent being encumbered during the fight.
The security personnel at the scene were practically on the verge of exploding!
If they left the situation unattended, the property owners could catch sight of the brawl at the main entrance, which would be difficult to explain. Yet attempting to interfere seemed futile; they couldn't restrain them.
While the guards were unaware of Austin's identity, they knew exactly who Zachary was. To dare to engage with Mr. Bailey, the other man's status couldn't be inferior.
They had already tried to intervene once to no avail, so they didn't dare step in again and separate them. They weren't even strong enough to do so.
The security could only turn their attention toward the instigator of this chaos. But they realized she had already walked away. They hurried after her. "Ms. Sullivan, please don't go. At least try to persuade them to stop fighting. If this continues, we won't be able to save the entrance gate!"
Even the barrier arm was at risk of being broken!
Winona was aware of the scuffle between Zachary and Austin. She glanced at the two men entangled in a vicious and dangerously violent brawl.
Yet both men were rational and aware of their limits.
Winona kept walking, not bothering to turn her head. "Let them fight. Once they've had enough, they'll stop on their own. Don't bother with it."
The security guard was dumbfounded. He turned to look at the two men continuing to battle despite their injuries, then at the broken barrier arm, and finally at the specks of blood scattered on the ground. He shifted his gaze back to Winona, who was moving further away.
Ms. Sullivan was truly ruthless!
In such situations, wasn't it normal for someone to step in and forcefully separate the fighters?
The guard, biting his lip, chased after her again. He felt compelled to do so. Ms. Sullivan might remain calm, but the guards could not. What if a life was lost? "Ms. Sullivan, you really should try to persuade them. What if this leads to a fatality?"
Winona was forced to stop. She looked at the entrance, where the two were still fighting fiercely. She then turned to address the guard beside her. "Do you really think I can stop them?"
At first, she wasn't concerned about the blows, but now those two were locked in the thrill of meeting their match, neither willing to stop without declaring a winner.
"They are sensible. They won't actually kill anyone. But if you're worried, go ahead and call the cops."
The security guard focused on what mattered. "Before the police arrive, you should stay put."
They had already called the police. After all, in brawls like these, who could guarantee that it wouldn't end in death? What if they didn't stop in time?
Winona had no choice but to stay. However, standing grew tiresome. "Could you bring me a stool to sit on?"
It was perplexing. How could someone as cultured and refined as Mr. Watson take a liking to a cold-hearted woman like Ms. Sullivan?
He glanced once again at Winona's expressionless face. With such an appearance, surely no one would dare to cross her.
Zachary and Austin had already ceased their fight before the police arrived. It was unclear who had won or lost; both were visibly wounded, yet they stood firm.
Austin picked up his clothes from the ground and gestured to Winona from a distance. "Winona, let's have lunch tomorrow. I'll pick you up."
"Okay," Winona replied.
Zachary let out a cold laugh and walked away, leaving his coat and cufflinks on the ground.
Seeing this, Winona understood the result; Zachary was the loser, likely severely injured. He couldn't even speak, and he was too weak to even pick up his belongings.
The victorious Austin grimaced as soon as he turned away, cursing under his breath from the pain. Had Zachary been raised in the underworld?
His blows were unforgiving. Wasn't the president's usual job just to review documents and hold meetings? Where had he developed such fighting prowess?
The SUV's high chassis made mounting it a challenge; lifting his leg to get in nearly made him cry out in pain.
"Damn, I must be crippled!"
After the two had departed, Winona turned to the security guard, who had remained diligently by her side. "Calculate the cost of repairs and cleaning for the damage, and send me the bill."
She'd send it to that bastard, Zachary!
If he hadn't followed her, this fight wouldn't have happened. She was living in Matthew's place now; this mess was the last thing she needed.
That night, just as Zachary returned to Regal Oaks, he received a call from Dylan.
He sat on the couch, drawing a cigarette to his lips. The lighter's blue flame flickered, illuminating his chiseled jaw. "What's the matter?"
"Mr. Bailey, the press release is ready. Should I send it to you for review?"
Usually, Dylan would take charge of such matters, but this time, he was unsure.
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