Chapter 1011

Heather hadn't finished speaking before she lunged, her hands instantly around Alexander's neck. Though her movements were fierce, she held back, merely testing his strength. Years of kickboxing training, countless victories—she was confident. Yet, despite her restraint, he escaped.

Heather's mind blanked, her empty hands betraying her. She missed his evasion; she wasn't sure he'd even moved, his faint smile unsettling. It felt like mockery. "You! You've been lying to me!"

Suddenly, it all clicked. Alexander was from a family of kickboxers; the Russells secretly practiced the art. The handbook—it had to exist. The Russell family was unknown in ancient kickboxing circles, but his effortless dodge revealed extraordinary strength. Her desire for the handbook intensified.

Regaining her composure, she attacked again, this time with full force. A palm strike to his face feigned distraction, her fist aimed for his abdomen. Calmly, he blocked the palm, shifting to avoid the punch. His palm then snaked to her wrist, a sharp jerk sending her reeling. She fought to regain her balance.

Their blows rained down, scattering the living room's contents, though the servants remained unseen, accustomed to such displays. Heather was no stranger to challenges, both initiating and receiving them. For the household staff, this was routine; they would clean later.

After several exchanges, they paused, seemingly evenly matched. Yet, Heather's gaze shifted. She maintained her composure, but knew continued fighting would overwhelm her. She hadn't expected such a formidable opponent. Terrifying in business, he proved equally mighty. She’d never taken any man seriously, believing herself his equal. But this man…he was different.

The ever-calm, smiling man now held a grave expression, his eyes sharp and intense. "Ms. Riggs," he said sternly, "I don't intend to fight. I'm here to tell you something."

"What is it?" Heather replied coldly, breathing evenly, her composure unwavering.