It couldn’t be anyone from her past either, since her current identity was well protected. But no matter who it was, coming to the alley meant they had crossed a line with her.
After all, the elderly lived there.
The thug trembled in fear, nearly at his wit's end: "I—I don’t know, this lady, we’re just doing some odd jobs. Someone above pays us, and we do the work. We don’t know who sent us here."
His words were confused and stumbling.
Amelia, however, detected something off in his tone. "So, you’re taking under-the-table jobs?"
The thug hesitated, glancing at the man he had knocked over.
Amelia immediately raised her foot and stepped on the man’s hand.
He immediately curled up in pain, his hand slapping the ground desperately. "Yes, yes! We’re taking under-the-table jobs!"
Amelia
