Chapter 22: I’m Felicity Heart
Whistle~
A sharp whistle cut through the air—then another, and another. Three of the boys let out low, leering notes as their eyes settled on Felicity. Her pitch black baseball cap obscured most of her face, but the rain had turned her clothes into a second skin, outlining every curve with a sculptor’s precision. She didn’t need to pose; the storm had done it for her.
Riven’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of raw lust and fascination surfacing in their depths. From his vantage point, hal-seated, half-crouched, he caught more of her features. For a moment, he almost mistook her for a celebrity.
But he knew all the high-profile women in Blue Star City. His father’s role as a congressman had brought him into the orbits of elite circles—he had shaken hands, made smirks, even flirted with a few. And yet, he didn’t recognize this girl.
Felicity.
She stepped forward, calm and deliberate, her presence chilling enough to silence the jeers. The warmth drained from the air, replaced by a crisp, razor-thin cold that made Riven’s cronies lift their makeshift weapons—a baseball bat, and even a broken mop stick.
Her voice, when it came, was laced with frost.
"Let her go."
Riven tilted his head, smirking. "This is my territory. Or haven’t you seen? The world order has ended. That means the strong get what they want."
His grin widened. "And that includes you."
Nero and Tevin tensed as they stepped in behind Felicity, unsure whether to support or intervene. Their breaths misted in the rain.