Your Uncle’s My Husband Now Back Off, Ex! novel Chapter 118

**Through Unseen Doors We Step Into Untold Worlds Beyond by Sage Hunter Lane**
**Chapter 118**

Nyla stood at the threshold of the private room, her heart racing with disbelief at the sheer misfortune that had befallen her. She had only intended to cross the hall and make her escape, but fate had other plans. Just as she took her first few steps, a drunken man stumbled into her path, his breath reeking of alcohol, and grasped her arm with a grip that felt both unwelcome and invasive.

“Hey, pretty lady, here alone? Hic…” he slurred, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Nyla felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she wriggled free from his grasp, the weight of his breath heavy on her senses.

With determination, she quickened her pace, but her relief was short-lived. A group of men emerged from the shadows, their presence looming like a storm cloud. They blocked her way, their intentions clear and menacing.

“Hey, lady, ignoring Ty, our boss? You’ve got guts,” one of them sneered, his tone dripping with contempt.

Nyla felt a chill creep down her spine, her instincts screaming at her to stay calm. She straightened her shoulders, her expression hardening into one of defiance. “I don’t know any ‘Ty’. If you don’t move, I’ll call the police,” she declared, her voice steady despite the fear bubbling beneath the surface.

The thought of calling for help flickered in her mind, but she knew all too well that bars were a double-edged sword. While they provided a haven for discreet exchanges of information, they also attracted the kind of trouble she was now facing.

“Hahaha, call the police? You think we’ll give you that chance?” one of the men taunted, stepping closer and snatching her phone from her hand with a swift motion.

Mockingly, he waved it in the air. “Go ahead, make the call. What are you going to use now?” The laughter of his companions echoed around her, mocking and cruel.

Nyla’s mind raced, searching for an escape route. She knew they wouldn’t dare act too brazenly in the bar itself, but if they managed to drag her away, all bets would be off. Her pulse quickened as she scanned the room, desperate for an ally or a way out.

Just then, a figure emerged from the throng—Tyler Krout, swaggering toward her with a bottle of whiskey in hand, a smirk plastered across his face. “I won’t make this hard for you,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with menace. “Just drink this bottle, and I’ll pretend this never happened. How about that?”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify