Shaw looked at Kieran, and his face fell. "Are you going to defend them? If you are unaware, my father is—"
Before he could finish, the elderly man behind Kieran suddenly waved his hand, and Shaw was sent flying backward. He fell to the first floor before crashing onto the ground. Blood spurted out of every orifice of his body, and the ghost of his last growl remained on his face.
Shaw's lackeys were shocked by their boss' death, and they scrambled to escape, lest they wound up dead as well.
Kieran looked around, and the martial artists who were watching the show earlier quickly retreated into their rooms. Evidently, they were scared of the person before them.
"Hello, ladies. My name is Kieran Southwark." Kieran extended his hand, but all he gained in return was the ladies rolling their eyes at him.