C10 Try to Touch Her.

Upon hearing the name Helmer, the man whose wrist was being gripped suddenly felt his knees buckle and he dropped to the ground with a thud.

"Mr. Andrews, I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize you. I realize my mistake."

"If your eyes have failed you, what good are they?"

Anything that belonged to Helmer was off-limits, whether he cared for it or not; it was not for others to touch.

The music in the bar cut off sharply, and a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone held their breath, fearful of becoming collateral damage to Helmer's wrath.

"Mr. Andrews," a voice called out from the throng.

A path cleared through the onlookers as several men in bar uniforms approached, led by a man in a black suit whose badge identified him as the general manager.

"Mr. Andrews, what have they done to offend you?"

The manager spoke with utmost deference, all the while studying Helmer's expression closely.

Helmer didn't respond. He was always like that—too proud to regard anyone as worthy of his attention.

Seeing the bar manager treat Helmer with such respect, the man became even more frantic. Today was his unlucky day; he had crossed Helmer.

All he wanted now was to get out of this situation intact.

"Mr. Andrews, please, spare me. It was all a misunderstanding!"

Leaving aside the influence of the Andrews Family, the mere frown of Helmer could send shivers through South City. The man was so terrified he began to stammer.

"So, explain this 'misunderstanding' to me."

"Mr. Andrews, this has nothing to do with the lady. She was the one who came, who came..."

"Are you suggesting she brought this on herself?"

Helmer's voice was icy, his words laced with a palpable menace that made everyone present involuntarily shiver.

Three years ago, Helmer had seen her as nothing more than a lackey. After she left, his initial anger turned to longing.

Now that he saw her again, Helmer had to admit he wanted her by his side, by any means necessary.

But witnessing her being mistreated, Helmer's rage boiled over, and he felt a murderous impulse.

"Elroy, take her to the car and wait for me," Helmer instructed, his gaze landing briefly on Elroy. Having been Helmer's right-hand man for over two years, Elroy understood him well.

With nothing more than a look from Helmer, Elroy understood his intent.

Mr. Martin approached Edna, bowing at a courteous ninety degrees, and gestured invitingly, "Ms. Richards, please come with me."

"I'd rather return with Dora. They've been startled, and I want to stay by their side."

"Frightened? To death, perhaps?"

"Helmer, with such unkind words, aren't you worried about lightning striking you on a rainy day?"

"Elroy, have you become so inept that you can't even persuade a woman to leave?"

Helmer's menacing presence bore down on Edna, his anger fueled by her defiance, which had unfortunately entangled Mr. Martin.

"Ms. Richards, please accompany us." Elroy's tone remained courteous. He was the polar opposite of Helmer, always wearing a smile, no matter the circumstance.

Yet Edna was well aware that Elroy was a smiling tiger, a fearsome creature nurtured by Helmer himself.

"Alright." Edna relented. If she resisted any longer, Elroy would have the bodyguards forcibly remove her.

Concerned, Edna glanced at Fannie and Dora. Dora reassured her, "Don't worry, Edna. We'll be fine."

With a nod, Edna turned to leave. Elroy and two bodyguards followed, escorting her out and into the car.

Outside the vehicle, Elroy waited in silence, seemingly focused on anticipating Helmer's exit.

"Mr. Martin, how will Mr. Andrews deal with them?"

Seated in the back of the car, Edna's hands rested properly on her lap, her mind uneasy. Helmer was known for his cruel and cunning ways with enemies, and his recent outburst was a clear sign of his extreme anger.

"Ms. Richards, you really should heed Mr. Andrews' words. He's said before, if the eyes are useless, why keep them?"

A jolt, like lightning, struck Edna's thoughts.

Inside the bar, a man knelt before Helmer, clutching at his leg. Helmer, seething with anger and revulsion, kicked him away.

"Mr. Andrews, could you grant me the honor of handling this situation?"

Helmer, hands still coolly pocketed, scoffed, "How much is your honor worth?"

His gaze settled on the manager's face, a clear indication that those causing trouble here were in cahoots with the bar's manager.

Helmer raised his hand slightly, issuing a chilling command, "Whichever hand touched her, that's the hand you leave behind."

His bodyguards sprang into action, and soon, agonized wails filled the bar, each cry piercing the hearts of all present.

"Mr. Andrews," the manager stepped forward, attempting once more to reason with Helmer. "This has to stop, or someone's going to get killed."

"Scum like that deserves to die."

"Mr. Andrews is merciless. Best not to cross him."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, quickly smothered by the anguished screams.

Helmer watched the brutalized victims, their arms broken, with an impassive gaze, as if observing the most mundane of events.

Those who dared lay a hand on his woman had sealed their fate.

Outside, Edna hurried back in, her voice urgent, "Enough, stop the beating!"

At the sound of Edna's voice, Helmer's brow furrowed. Had Elroy become so incompetent that he couldn't even look after a woman?

"Stop," Edna implored as she approached the bodyguards.

Caught between their duty and the untouchable Edna, the bodyguards hesitated, awaiting Helmer's directive.

The man on the floor was a bloody mess, his arm grotesquely twisted. Fear flickered in Edna's eyes as she looked at Helmer, knowing the violence could end in death.

She turned, locking eyes with Helmer, whose dark gaze held a shadowy depth. "Do you pity them?"

"Had I not stumbled upon them, do you realize what might have happened to you today?"

"Or perhaps, you would have preferred their advances?" he pressed, stepping closer.

Seeing Edna plead for mercy only fueled Helmer's rage.

She was still so naive, foolishly kind-hearted, utterly defenseless.

"Asshole," Edna spat out, her voice quivering, her nose tingling with the onset of tears. Was this really how Helmer saw her?

Indeed, she was nothing more than Helmer's woman, his mistress.

In Helmer's eyes, she was so insignificant that she lacked any semblance of dignity.