Chapter 4
Giselle thought something was wrong with her eyes. Her heart raced as Donovan hovered just inches away. Then, he noticed her too.
The moment their eyes met, the world seemed to freeze. He stared at her as if she were some kind of monster.
Neither of them could look away for a good while.
“Don!” Tony was the first to call out, grinning as he waved him over. “Come on, take a seat! Sorry about that. There was just a little family disagreement earlier. I thought you’d be running late. Please, take a seat!”
Then, leaning close to Giselle, Tony hissed a sharp warning under his breath, “That’s Anne’s fiancé. He’s an honored guest. Stop causing a scene, and get out. Now!”
Fiancé?
The word struck Giselle like a physical blow. Her body went rigid, her disbelieving gaze snapping back to Donovan.
At the same time, Renee hurried over, stumbling over her apologies. “Don, I’m truly sorry about what happened earlier. I’m so embarrassed you had to see this mess on your first visit to our home.
“I’m sorry! That’s Tony’s daughter from his ex-wife. She’s used to getting her way and has a habit of stirring up trouble.”
Worried that Giselle’s bratty, delinquent image might ruin the marriage between the Holts and the Kanes, Renee wasted no time clearing things up.
“But don’t worry. She doesn’t live with us. Tony and I will make sure this is handled properly.”
Donovan said nothing, merely shooting Giselle a cold glance before looking away. That disdainful, icy gaze left no question about his contempt for her.
He’d slept with her for a year—more than enough time to learn every wild, selfish, and money-hungry part of her. Not to mention, he’d just watched her slap Renee “viciously”.
“Giselle, must you turn the whole place upside down every time you’re back?”
Anne stepped closer, pretending to be gentle as she reached for Giselle’s hair.
Putting on her usual victim act, she added, “If my mom said something to upset you, I’ll apologize right now, okay? Take it out on me all you want. Just please don’t take your anger out on her anymore. She has a heart condition—”
“Get off me.”
Giselle hated when people touched her hair, especially someone as fake and cloying as Anne.
As she spoke, she shoved Anne, sending her stumbling backward. Anne nearly lost her balance, but Donovan caught her just in time.
He’d had enough. His eyes locked onto Giselle, burning with fury as he growled, “Touch her one more time. I dare you.”
The threat stopped Giselle cold. Seeing him play the overprotective fiancé—holding Anne, who looked so fragile in his arms—drove the truth home once more. He was going to marry Anne.
A smirk twisted Giselle’s lips as she ground out, “Gladly.”
Nothing infuriated her more than being threatened.
In one swift motion, she turned, snatched a glass of water from the housekeeper’s tray, and flung its contents straight into Anne’s face. Then, she tossed the empty glass into the trash at her feet, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door as if nothing had happened.
But she’d barely taken a few steps when a hand suddenly seized her arm.
Giselle looked up and locked eyes with Donovan again, his dark, stormy gaze burning with barely restrained fury.
She tried to wrench her arm free, but his grip only tightened, crushing her flesh as if he wanted to snap her bones.
Too exhausted to struggle, she threw him a taunt. “What the hell are you doing, groping me like that? Are you trying to rape me or something?”
