Chapter 14

It was Renee and Anne. Giselle barely looked up. "What do you want?" Clutching a Hermès bag worth millions, Renee stepped forward with the confidence of a seasoned businesswoman. "You know exactly why I'm here, you bitch!" "Sorry, but I couldn't care less about the Holts' trashy drama. Get to the point. I'm not in the mood for games." Renee swallowed her anger. "Anne told me you went to Donovan's private villa the other day. Care to explain what you were doing there?" "Seducing him, obviously. What else? Your future son-in-law is rich, hot, and top-tier. He's every woman's dream." Renee took a deep breath, her jaw tight as she hissed, "You bitch. All these years, you've pushed me again and again. I let it slide because I thought you were just throwing childish tantrums, and I felt sorry for you for losing your mom so young. "But now, you're scheming against Anne's future happiness? I'll make sure you learn how to be a decent person!" The mention of Rebecca struck a nerve, piercing Giselle's usual composure. "Oh, really?" she shot back, her voice thick with scorn. "You nasty old hag. 20 years ago, you slept with your own sister's husband just to climb your way up. So, tell me—how is it unfair if I follow your example 20 years later and steal my 'sister's' fiancé?" "How dare you!" Renee's face turned pale. Her anger was caught in her throat, leaving her completely speechless. Anne stepped in to back her up. "Giselle, no one can beat you when it comes to trash talk. Mom and I didn't come here to start a fight. "We just came to let you know that your rebellious, psycho routine might work in your low-rent crowd, but if you're dumb enough to mess with the Kanes, crossing that line, then you'll be the one paying the price. So watch yourself!" Giselle snorted at the threat and fired back, "Oh, Anne, so a few flirty winks at him and you're already this rattled? You even dragged yourself over here to threaten me. Doesn't exactly scream confidence in whatever you and Donovan have, does it?" Anne's face went rigid. Giselle had hit a nerve. "Cut the crap! Just remember this—Donovan and I are getting engaged on the 18th next month. And if the Kanes catch wind of a notorious bitch like you sniffing around him, they won't just sit on their hands!" Giselle turned away from Anne, her arms crossed. She was tired of her pretentious act. "Anne, if you're so worried, here's an idea. Keep your man on a tighter leash. Or just cut his damn junk off and carry it around with you. "Strutting around in front of me is pointless. You know how this goes. I've got nothing to lose, unlike you." "What the hell is that supposed to mean? So now you're openly picking a fight with me?" Renee snapped and stepped up to Giselle, her hand raised like she was about to slap her again. But before she could swing, Giselle's shepherd dog lunged at her, its claws tearing into her clothes. Renee shrieked in terror, flailing wildly at the dog, while Anne screamed beside her, too scared to help in case she got bitten. The whole scene quickly spiraled into chaos. Just as the dog was about to lunge at Renee's face, Giselle shouted, "Eastin! Come here!" Eastin immediately stopped mid-attack and trotted back to Giselle's side. Although Renee hadn't been bitten, her top was torn across the chest. She was badly shaken, her heart still pounding long after it was over. "Mom, let's go. That dog's vicious. It's dangerous!" Anne was just as scared. She threw Giselle and Eastin an angry look before yanking Renee out the door. As the two troublemakers drove off, the veterinary clinic finally settled down. Giselle crouched and patted Eastin's head affectionately, murmuring words of praise. Eastin wasn't the kind of dog to attack without reason. His loyalty belonged solely to Giselle. Sharp and perceptive, he acted as her personal bodyguard, always at her side or keeping watch at the clinic. In the days that followed, Giselle didn't linger on the argument with Renee and Anne, dismissing it as nothing more than idle chatter. She kept her focus on her usual work at the clinic. But a week later, as she was napping at home, one of her clinic managers called in a panic. "Ms. Holt, something terrible has happened!"