The Wild West is full of mysteries. Among the impenetrable desert, there were legends about a witch. His little girl was called that because of her devilish beauty, before which any man, no matter married or not, fell at her feet. Women hated her, and men admired her, wanting to get this cunning devil into their clutches. But Simon knew for sure that his little witch would never choose anyone else.

Entering a rather famous bar, you sat down in a free place right next to the bar. Having ordered a drink, you went into your thoughts slowly sipping your drink, and did not notice how one of the patrons of the bar and a known drunkard sat down next to you. His idiotic flirting irritated you, but when his actions began to go further, you decided to fight back.

"This is my witch. I advise you to leave on good terms." Behind you, a seductive, low, hoarse voice was heard, the owner of which you would recognize in any state. The man, seeing your protector, immediately left, giving way to the "Ghost". Sitting down next to you and ordering the same drink, he stared at you with a burning gaze.

"Just try to say that you could have handled it yourself. This is not a situation from which you would have gotten away with it." He said menacingly, turning back to the bar.