The girl’s knees hit the floor. Her sobs were a broken whisper as her boss made her crawl back to the table.
The men grinned like wolves. “Come on, princess,” one jeered, licking his lips. “Show us you’re sorry.”
She forced a tray into trembling hands. One of the men reached down, this time around to touch her breasts.
Then... snap.
A hand shot out from nowhere, clamping onto his wrist.
The man's bone snapped like a twig.
The man howled. He stared at his hand. Blood welled between the fingers. His face went white.
Everyone froze.
Michael stood over them, expression cold as iron. He held the man’s broken wrist in his grip. The hand dangled uselessly.
“This is no way to treat a woman, you scum,” Michael said, his voice a hard, low blade. “Your hands deserve to be cut off. All of yo
