Chapter 78 - Mercy's Bitter Aftertaste

Davis's massive fist cut through the air toward Jaxon's face—a punch that would have surely broken his jaw. But before it could connect, Eamon's hand appeared, catching the giant's wrist mid-swing.

The crowd gasped.

Davis blinked in confusion, as if he couldn't comprehend what had just happened. His eyes narrowed at Eamon, who stood calmly between him and Jaxon.

"Get out of my way, pretty boy," Davis snarled, yanking his arm free. "Unless you want to be next."

Eamon didn't flinch. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

Davis's face twisted with rage. "You just signed your own death warrant."

I watched the scene unfold with detached interest. The outcome was already clear to me, though Davis seemed blissfully unaware of his impending humiliation.

"Eamon, don't," Jaxon pleaded from behind him, his voice shaking. "This is my fight. He'll hurt you."

I couldn't help but smirk at Jaxon's misplaced concern. "He'll be fine."