Ruth was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the long-haired man's teasing touch. Still, she looked thrilled.

After punching his chest a few times in mock protest, she giggled and purred, "You're the one who made the restaurant rules, remember? No violence on the premises. If we go after that punk now, aren't we just ruining our own reputation?"

The long-haired man scoffed. "Those rules were made for others to follow, not me."

Ruth laughed seductively, pressing her chest against him with a flirtatious smirk as they linked arms and headed downstairs.

The moment they appeared, every guest in the restaurant stood up, rushing to greet them respectfully. The long-haired man returned each nod with a warm smile, walking with effortless dominance, radiating presence.

Ruth, however, wore a wicked smile. Now that her man was involved, that little punk Andrew? He was dead meat.

Someone exclaimed, "Look, look! Mr. Fischer's heading toward the private room! That kid's