?Chapter 1697:
Gillian couldn’t make out a single word they were saying, but the contempt on their faces made it obvious they were tearing Christina apart. It was two against one, and she couldn’t believe how low they were willing to stoop.
Even though her legs were trembling, Gillian stepped forward and positioned herself directly in front of Christina, using her own body as a shield. Gathering every scrap of courage she could find, she snapped back in the localnguage, “If you want to touch her, you’ll have to deal with me first.”
Violette finally noticed Gillian and let out a sharp, mockingugh. “And who are you supposed to be?” she asked, looking her up and down with undisguised disdain.
Gillian’s expression turned to stone. “Think whatever you like of me. I’m not letting you touch Miss Jones.”
That only sent Violette and Irene into another fit ofughter.
“Oh, look — she’s got herself a little guard dog,” Violette taunted.
Irene crossed her arms with a smirk. “You’re a nobody. The Hewitt family could crush you without even trying.”
The wordsnded like a p. Gillian swallowed hard, her mind racing for aeback that wouldn’te. She kept her eyes down, but she didn’t move an inch, holding her ground in front of Christina.
Christina could see that Gillian wasn’t the type to win a shouting match. She stepped up and stood beside her, fixing the two women with a cool, contemptuous smile. “Which family let their dogs off the leash tonight? If you’re so tough, why don’t you finish this right now?”
Irene went still, her face flushing a patchy, angry red.
“You’re the only stray here!” Violette snapped through clenched teeth.
Christina had no interest in wasting any more time on them. She took Gillian by the wrist and started walking. “Let’s go,” she said,pletely rxed. “I’d rather leave before they start foaming at the mouth. I really don’t feel like getting a rabies shot today.”
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Violette and Irene stood rooted to the spot, too furious to respond. Violette was already mapping out exactly how she intended to make them pay for this.
Christina led Gillian to a quieter corner of the venue and spoke gently. “Pick out whatever food you like. And don’t spend another second thinking about those two.”
“Okay,” Gillian replied with a small nod.
They had barely started on their dessert when Alban’s voice reached them from nearby, carrying a note of quiet amusement.
“There you are.” He swirled the wine in his ss, a faint smirk on his face.
Christina frowned, making no effort to conceal her displeasure. “What do you want now, Mr. Martel?”
“Nothing in particr.” Alban shifted his gaze to Gillian, who had gone noticeably quiet. “And who might you be?”
“This is my friend, Gillian Torres,” Christina replied, watching his face carefully.
She caught it — a brief furrow of Alban’s brow as his eyes settled on Gillian. And for just a split second, Gillian wentpletely still.
Christina wondered if the two of them had crossed paths before. “Do you know each other?” she asked directly.
Gillian shook her head quickly, waving her hands in anxious denial, as though any hesitation might look like disloyalty. She knew all about the bitter feud between the Martel family and the Jones family. As someone now working in the Jones household, she understood she had no business being friendly with their enemies. Beyond that, she genuinely didn’t recognize him — even if his face stirred some vague, unreachable memory she couldn’t quite ce.
“If I knew her, I’d have turned her into a spy,” Alban said, raising an eyebrow with dry amusement. “She’d make a perfect asset inside the Jones family.”
In truth, he felt an odd sense of familiarity around this woman named Gillian, but no concrete memory surfaced to exin it. He assumed his mind was simply ying tricks on him.
“Stop talking nonsense! I’m not a spy!” Gillian shot back. She stepped in front of Christina once more and fixed Alban with a re of open, unambiguous hostility.
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