C1 The Little Security Guard of the Beauty Parlor

"Ah, no!"

In the dimly lit room, Blaine, who had been deep in slumber, jolted upright on the bed. His once handsome features were now contorted, and his bloodshot eyes brimmed with murderous intent. He resembled a raging tiger, his entire being radiated a palpable sense of danger.

Blaine's piercing gaze darted around the room as the spiritual energy from practicing the Ghost Valley Immortal Cultivating Secret Technique coursed through him. Upon noticing the refined emblem of the beauty salon etched on the door, his lethal impulse swiftly withdrew, and the wild aura retreated back into his core.

Yet, the eyes that had blazed with hostility now reflected a profound despair.

The image of a familiar silhouette haunted his thoughts. Clenching his fists, Blaine's nails dug deep into his flesh, drawing blood that trickled down his fingers. The nightmarish vision, all too real, refused to fade from his memory.

In that vision, Olivia, with her stunning beauty, lay fallen before him—a wound upon his heart that Blaine would never forget.

A soft knock on the door preceded its opening.

A glamorous woman entered, about twenty-five, with striking features and a flawless figure accentuated by her attire—a fitted black blazer with the lapels slightly parted to reveal the black lace of her bra beneath. A closer look would reveal the enticing white valley of her cleavage.

She approached Blaine, her legs encased in black stockings, exuding elegance. She was Zoe, the proprietor of the beauty salon.

"Blaine, try to relax," Zoe's gentle voice came from behind him.

Turning to face her, Blaine's eyes were hollow, his despair palpable. Zoe's heart clenched at the sight.

Blaine might have been just a security guard at the salon, but Zoe, with her wealth of experience, sensed there was more to him than met the eye. That's why she made an exception for him to be the salon's sole male employee.

Zoe reached out with her delicate hand, softly touching Blaine's marred visage. Her eyes briefly lingered on the twisted bedsheet, her brow furrowing with concern.

Blaine stood motionless, his gaze vacant, resembling a shell of a man. His muscles tensed, his expression grotesque, transforming his once charming face into something quite terrifying.

"Blaine, please, you're frightening me," Zoe pleaded, cradling Blaine's cheeks with both hands, her beautiful eyes brimming with softness as they met his gaze.

The scent of Chanel wafting from Zoe's body helped to soothe Blaine, his expression easing back to normal. His hands found their way to her slender waist, drawing her close.

A blush tinted Zoe's cheeks, endearing and alluring, reminiscent of a certain female celebrity.

Blaine's lips met Zoe's in a mechanical motion, and she, shyly closing her eyes, leaned into the kiss. Their faces drew nearer, the moment intimate and near.

But just as their lips were about to unite, a crash of shattering porcelain pierced the air from outside.

Blaine, the sole security guard of the beauty salon, furrowed his brow in concern.

Undeterred, Zoe's lips curled into a slight smile, and their lips finally touched. The second crash of porcelain seemed to go unnoticed by her.

Blaine nudged Zoe gently. She opened her eyes to his troubled expression and, with a sigh, settled onto the single bed beside her. Blaine, with the urgency of a tiger unleashed, strode out of the room.

He opened the door and made his way to the hall.

There, amidst the opulence, a man in designer clothes stood out starkly. Blaine knew him—Finn, the wealthy and handsome suitor who had been courting Zoe.

Broken vases lay at Finn's feet, a stunning, sexy woman to his left, and a beauty salon attendant with five distinct finger marks on her right cheek stood before him.

"Damn it, I'm going in with her today, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!" Finn bellowed at the attendant.

Tara, the young waitress, looked on with a face full of hurt, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. At Finn's words, she shuddered.

Sensing Blaine's approach, Finn raised his right hand, the gleam of his expensive Rolex catching the light.

His hand swung with force towards Tara's face. Frozen with fear, she stood motionless, unable to evade.

But as Finn's hand neared its target, a sharp pain shot through his wrist. He turned, anger flaring in his eyes, to face Blaine, who had seized his wrist just in time.