"Who does she belong to?" one of the Colombo men demanded immediately.
Laurence replied smoothly, "A new addition to the household. A mistress."
The word mistress grated sharply against Giselle's ears. She stared at Hank, who was tightly holding a pouting Karina. "Is this your mistress? Does she always have such a temper?"
Hank's eyes were pitch black. If he showed any favoritism toward Giselle now, the consequences for her would be unimaginable. "She's just a toy," he said coldly. "She has no right to bully you."
Karina beamed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I knew you loved me. But there's no need to be too harsh on a plaything. Just make her apologize and wipe my shoes clean. That'll do."
Hank looked at Giselle. "Do as she says, and I'll spare your life."
Giselle's heart had already been torn to shreds. Not a single trace of emotion remained on her face. She asked the bartender for a napkin, bent down, and stared at the tips of their shoes. Her eyes reddened, but her resolve to leave him only grew stronger.
She reached out and wiped the spill from Karina's heels. Instantly, the woman stomped down hard on her hand. Pain flared. Hank almost lost his mind, his body tensing to pull Karina off, but Loyce stepped in first.
She yanked Giselle back and, in the same fluid motion, delivered a ringing slap across Karina's face.
"Enough."
Loyce swept her gaze across the room, her commanding presence suppressing the murmurs. She shielded Giselle and walked her away, with Nightingale and Storm following closely behind, on high alert.
"Who is that?" The crowd's attention shifted.
Laurence chuckled. "I owe my recovery entirely to her life-saving skills."
"SaintHealer?"
"She's the miracle doctor who can pull people back from the dead? She's that young? And a woman?"
Laurence nodded. "SaintHealer has a kind heart. She's been staying on our turf lately and has grown quite fond of the mistress."
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