The man staggered to his feet, his face a mask of drunken rage and humiliation. "Damn it!" he roared, his voice a gravelly bellow that echoed in the opulent hallway. "Who the hell do you think you are, you pretty-boy bastard? Trying to be a hero? You ruined my fun! I'll kill you!"

He charged, a bull of a man fueled by liquor and fury, his attack clumsy but aggressive.

Michael didn't even shift his stance. As the man lunged, Michael simply lifted his leg in a swift, powerful kick that connected ...