Yoselin, who threw herself into Giancarlo's arms, cried miserably. Her tears had wet her pale face, and her hair was messy, some of it clinging to her face.
She looked pitiful.
Giancarlo and Aaron raised their heads one after another. Jazmine, who was standing on the second floor, stood in situ with the baseball bat. Her expression was cold, and the fierceness in her eyes was still obvious.
The distinct comparison made the attacker stand out.
Giancarlo placed his hand on Yoselin's shoulder and patted it from time to time, and the coldness in his eyes grew thicker. The air around him seemed to freeze.
The person who was about to bear the brunt of his anger was Jazmine, who was still holding the baseball bat, looking stubborn and rebellious.
The first to speak was Aaron.
The gentle sm
