Without warning, a sharp slap landed hard across Israel’s face.
Smack!
Joshua hadn’t even seemed to use much force, yet Israel went sprawling to the floor, landing awkwardly at Stella’s feet.
With feigned surprise, Joshua remarked, “Weren’t you about to teach Star a lesson, Israel? Why the sudden show of respect? Are you feeling guilty about your late mother and decided to kneel in her memory first?”
Jonathan and Coleman’s faces stayed stony, neither saying a word.
Why did Israel never seem to learn his lesson?
Didn’t he realize that every time he tried to lay a hand on Stella, it ended badly for him?
And with Joshua around—well, everyone knew he was no ordinary bodyguard. The last time Skyler had recounted the incident with an oil tycoon flashing a gun, he couldn’t stop marveling at how skilled Joshua was. Not just anyone, even trained fighters, could stand a chance against him.
The pain burning on his cheek finally snapped Israel out of his rage, if only a little. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared up at Stella, seething with hatred.
Coleman quickly stepped forward and helped him up. “Israel, you’re exhausted. Go get some rest. We’ll handle things here. When Aurora wakes up, I’ll let you know.”
Joshua’s slap had left one side of Israel’s face swollen and red, but no one said a word against Stella. They all knew that if they dared speak, Stella would have plenty to say in return. Besides, this time it was clearly Israel who started it.
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