Miss Josefina: Nobody's Princess

A group of rough-looking guys knelt on the ground, surrounded by an intimidating crowd with murder in their eyes. The fear was palpable. They could tell these weren't your average street thugs but something akin to mercenaries.

Oliver swung his baseball bat onto the wounded arm of one, a wicked smirk playing at the corner of his eyes. The man yelped in pain but didn't miss a beat trying to defend himself. "We didn't lay a finger on her, man! She's just... she's just too much."

Cradling his arm, the man seemed to realize that Oliver was completely hoodwinked and in the dark about Josefina's true capabilities. "We didn't hurt her, swear! Instead, she turned us into punching bags. Look at us. We're all banged up!"

Oliver was unimpressed. "What else is new? You expect her to be the one getting hurt?"

"We took a real beating, man! She's got moves like nobody's business-a real-born fighter! I ain't never seen a woman that fierce, sir."

A cold glare shot from Oliver's eyes as he kicked the man's face, planting his foot firmly on his mouth. The man hit the floor, Oliver's shoe silencing him, a clear sign he wanted no more talk.

Just one honest word, and he got knocked out? Birds of a feather, these two-neither one to be trifled with!

Another goon, kneeling by his side, stammered in fright, "We didn't touch your lady, not one bit! Instead, we're the ones looking like a horror show."

Oliver scoffed. "Oh, feeling sorry for yourself now? You think you didn't deserve a beating?"

"Deserve it? We had it coming. The lady's hits were poetry in motion, music to my ears!"

"Yeah, we had it coming. I just love it when your lady gives me what for."

Oliver just shook his head. What a waste.

He realized they hadn't really harmed Josefina, tossed the bat aside, and lifted his shoe from the goon's mouth.

Asher, respectfully standing by, asked, "Should we off them?"

The goons were petrified! They had admitted their wrongs. Couldn't they catch a break?

"Josie doesn't like it when I get too

rough. I better tone it down. Leave 'em breathing, but you deal with the rest," Oliver decided, then walked away, leaving the goons waiting for mercy.

Later, Oliver arrived at Josefina's home, bearing the gifts of late-night fried chicken and beer.

Fresh from the shower, Josefina found Oliver seated, a doting gaze in his eyes as he looked at her. "Oliver, what brings you here?"

She was certain Oliver didn't come by conventional means, especially since his shoes were perched on the outside windowsill, replaced by a pair of cheap-looking slippers.

"You scaled the wall, didn't you?" she gasped, astounded.

Oliver just chuckled and nodded, opening the box to reveal the tantalizing fried chicken that instantly made Josefina's mouth water.

"Honey mustard, sweet chili, and plum powder seasoning-so many flavors, they look irresistible," she commented, approaching the feast.

"Word on the street is this place has the best fried chicken. Try one and see." Oliver gently pulled Josefina's right hand, slipped a disposable glove on it, and placed a sweet chili-coated piece of chicken in her grasp. This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

Without another word from Oliver, Josefina bit into it. The juicy crunch mixed with the kick of spice made her eyes light up as she demolished the drumstick.