Katherine Mills is the newest student at West Valley High. She's beautiful, bold, badass, and above all, the daughter of the estranged Ali Mills. To everyone, she's the epitome of perfection, and yet, she harbors a dark and grim past that not even...
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Meanwhile, back at the juvenile detention facility, Robby watched the news report, his face without emotion. The comments from the other boys at the table started to infiltrate his thoughts.
"Which hot white girl is yours? Both?" one of them joked, accompanied by suggestive gestures. "Damn, Kenne, you're a player."
Another boy chimed in, adding to the crude remarks, "I don't know, man. Sounds like vanilla ain't their flavor anymore."
He mockingly moved his hips, smirking, "She's got a taste for that horchata."
Robby's fists clenched at his sides, anger simmering beneath the surface. He couldn't let their insults go unnoticed. Standing up from the table, he confronted them, his features stern.
"How about you shut the fuck up," he retorted, his gaze unwavering.
Both boys jumped up from their seats, eager for a confrontation. One of them sneered, taunting, "Looks like karate boy wants to throw down."
Another kid chimed in, goading him further, "Hell yeah, man. Let's see what you got."
As tension filled the air, Robby's voice remained resolute. "My karate is self-defense," he declared.
The boys exchanged glances, their bravado momentarily faltering. One of them grumbled, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, "Go ahead. I'll give you a free shot before I use your teeth for dice."
Robby stood his ground, surrounded by a group of hostile inmates in the overcrowded common area of the juvenile detention center.
"We'll see how that works out for you, white boy," The biggest boy taunted, a malicious glint in his eyes.
Robby took a deep breath. He knew he had to defend himself to prove that he wouldn't be an easy target.
Without warning, the first inmate lunged at Robby, throwing a wild punch. Robby's reflexes kicked in, and he deftly sidestepped the attack, countering with a swift jab to the kid's ribs. The inmate crumpled to the ground, clutching his side in agony.
Two more delinquents surged forward, hoping to overwhelm Robby with their sheer numbers. Robby's training took over as he swiftly evaded their blows, retaliating with a series of precise strikes. His fists and feet moved with a speed and accuracy that surprised both his attackers and the onlooking inmates.
One of the guys landed a punch to Robby's face before he tornado-kicked the kid, sending him crashing to the ground. The common area fell into silence, broken only by the heavy panting and the sound of Robby's labored breaths.
Blood trickled from Robby's mouth, his face sporting a grim smirk as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. But before he could savor his hard-fought victory, the guards stormed into the room, their expressions firm.
They swiftly closed in on Robby, grabbing him by the arms and slamming him onto a nearby table. Pain shot through his body, but he refused to show weakness. In the face of the guards' aggression, he maintained his defiant smirk, blood dripping from his nose to his lips.
