Brian leaned back in his chair, savoring the easy flow of conversation with Dom and Vince. But his sharp eyes caught on a group of teenagers lingering around his Skyline. His Skyline—a machine that wasn't just a car but a symbol of dedication, speed, and pure skill. And yet, there they were, lounging against it like they owned the thing. Their casual arrogance was as loud as the neon lights of the city, and Brian's patience was wearing thinner by the second.
"Izzy, Abby," he called, his tone cool and unbothered but carrying an edge that made people listen. "Why don't you and the girls go introduce yourselves to the kids eyeing my car?"
Izzy's brow arched, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes as she exchanged a glance with Abby. "On it, Dad," she replied, the hint of a smirk in her tone. Without a second thought, they clipped the leashes to Sissy and Missy, their Belgian Malinois, and strode toward the group.
The teenagers didn't know what hit them. Izzy and Abby walked like they owned the place, their every step deliberate, the dogs at their sides exuding a quiet menace. A muttered German command from Izzy had the Malinois snapping to attention, their sharp gazes fixed on the teens.
"Nice dogs," a lanky boy sneered, stepping forward with a cocky grin. "Think they're tough or something?"
Izzy's lips curled into a razor-sharp smile. "They're not just tough," she replied, voice like silk over steel. "They're smart. Smarter than most people, actually."
The boy didn't back off. Instead, he reached out a hand, clearly testing his limits. But before he could get close, Abby gave a tug on Missy's leash, her tone dropping several degrees. "Unless you have a death wish, I'd suggest you don't."
"Oh, come on," the boy scoffed. "They're just dogs. You two think you're hot stuff because of some mutts and a shiny car?"
Izzy's smirk didn't waver as she gestured to the Skyline. "That 'shiny car' is worth more than your attitude. And the dogs? They've got more backbone than your entire crew combined."
Abby stepped up, her gaze narrowing. "If you're smart, you'll walk away before this gets interesting. We don't play nice when it comes to family—or respect."
The boy faltered, his confidence cracking under their unyielding stares. His friends, meanwhile, exchanged nervous glances, the bravado draining from their expressions. One even murmured, "Let's just go."
Brian watched from his chair, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. His girls had it handled, no question about it. As the teenagers finally slunk away, muttering weak insults under their breath, he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the dull ache in his back.
Dom clapped a hand on Brian's shoulder, clearly impressed. "Man, your girls are something else. Fierce."
Brian chuckled, his pride unmistakable. "Runs in the family. Loyalty, respect, and knowing when to push back—that's how we roll."
Izzy and Abby returned, their confident strides never faltering. "Handled," Izzy said simply, brushing her hands together as if dusting off the encounter.
Brian gave them a nod, his grin widening. "That's what I thought."