His Crush Said My Brother Kissed Her

“Juvelia, are you sure it was him who licked you?” I asked again for confirmation.

Juvelia shot me a venomous glare before nodding pitifully.

“Yes... that wet, sticky sensation... I’ll never forget it for the rest of my life...”

“Good.” I nodded with an icy expression. “Hopefully, you’ll still remember that feeling later.”

Ten minutes later, the banquet hall doors swung open.

A man clad in a black hoodie, a baseball cap, and a black mask stepped inside.

His frame was lean yet held rigidly straight, like an unbreakable pole.

Though his attire was plain, slightly worn even, his cool, aloof demeanor clashed starkly with the opulent surroundings.

It was my brother, Efim Sanders.

“It’s him!” Juvelia shrieked. She shrank behind Edwin, trembling. “Edwin! It’s that outfit! It’s those eyes! I’d recognize him even if he were ashes!”

Edwin patted Juvelia’s hand and strode purposefully toward my brother.

Bodyguards instantly surrounded him. Their stun batons crackled.

“Efim, is it?”

Edwin stood before my brother, looking down on him.

“You’ve got some nerve, going after my woman. Since you’re here, you won’t be leaving standing.”

My brother remained silent.

He merely raised his head. Only his eyes were visible above the mask—still as dead water.

He showed no fear and no panic. In fact, there was even... a hint of pity.

That look made Edwin completely infuriated.

“What’s that look for? Are you looking down on me? You’re a jerk who attacks women. You belong in the lowest rung of society, yet you dare look at me like that? Get on your knees!”

Edwin tried to aim a kick at my brother’s knees.

My brother sidestepped the blow with astonishing agility.

Edwin missed. He stumbled backward and nearly fell.

This time, Edwin completely lost his mind.

“So... you think you’re pretty good, huh?

“Beat him! Break his legs! Let’s see how he’ll dodge then!”

A dozen bodyguards swarmed forward.

My heart clenched violently, and I was about to rush forward.

However, instead of retreating, my brother moved forward.

Like a bolt of lightning, he darted through the crowd.

A grapple, a shoulder throw, a side kick—each move was crisp and decisive. He did not show the slightest hesitation.

In less than a minute, a dozen bodyguards lay sprawled on the ground, moaning in agony.

The entire venue fell deathly silent.

Everyone was stunned.

No one had imagined that this “penniless, pathetic brother” they had publicly vilified was secretly a martial arts master.

Edwin’s face turned ashen. He gritted his teeth.

“So, he’s trained in martial arts. No wonder he’s so cocky.

“But among the city’s elites, brute strength means nothing!”

He drew his gun. Its black muzzle was aimed squarely at my brother’s forehead.

“One more move, and I’ll blow your brains out!”

My brother froze.

He stared silently at Edwin with a complex look in his eyes.

This was the man he had once risked his life to carry out of a burning inferno.

That same man was holding a gun to his head.

“Edwin! Stop wasting your breath with him!”

Seeing this, Juvelia urgently stirred the pot.

“He forced me with this very level of violence just now!

“Make them strip him naked and cut out his tongue!

“He must pay the price!”

Edwin took a deep breath. His finger tightened on the trigger.

“Efim, take off your mask.

“Let me see what this attacker’s face looks like.”

My brother did not move.

“Take it off!” Edwin roared, jabbing the muzzle forward.

My brother slowly raised his hand. His slender fingers hooked the strap by his ear.

I closed my eyes. My heart ached.

That was the scar he was most reluctant to show anyone.