Breaking Mr. Cold (Giselle and Donovan) novel Chapter 429

When Anne finally came to her senses, fury surged through her. She shoved the car door open, ready to get out and give the other driver a piece of her mind.

But the moment she opened the door and unbuckled her seat belt, before she could even step out, the driver from behind was already at her side. Without a word, she reached in and yanked at her roughly.

"What are you doing?" Anne shouted, stunned by the woman's aggression. But her protest was cut short as the stranger dragged her from the driver's seat and dumped her onto the pavement.

Before she could even process what was happening, three more women came out of the other car, followed by a man from the passenger side.

Tattoos snaked across their arms. Their hair, makeup, and clothes screamed nightclub delinquent—women who lived on cheap cigarettes, cheap liquor, and no real job.

"You—who the hell are you?" Anne stammered, sprawled on the ground as they approached with sneers and contempt. The dim, isolated road suddenly felt menacingly silent, and her heart hammered in fear.

"Are you Anne Holt?" the first woman crouched low, glaring down at her.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Anne demanded.

The woman slapped Anne hard across the face, her temper flaring as she barked, "I'm talking to you. Are you Anne Holt or not?"

Anne realized they were nothing more than a pack of brazen street punks.

Forcing herself to stay calm, she lifted her chin and snapped, "Yes, I'm Anne Holt. You already know who I am, so you also know what will happen if you lay a finger on me. If it's money you want, just say so. I'll transfer it right now. I won't even bother calling the police."

At last, when their fists grew tired, they still weren't finished. Two of them pinned her down. Another pulled a set of clippers from her bag—clearly prepared in advance—and pressed it to Anne's hairline.

"No! Don't! Stop!" Anne screamed as the blades buzzed to life. Rage and humiliation twisted through her, but she couldn't break free. The others held her too tight.

"Shave her bald. Make her a little nun. Let's see if she still seduces men then."

"No need to strip her. Just butcher her hair, hack it into a mess, make her look hideous."

Under the assault and restraint of those women, Anne was reduced to nothing more than a prey beneath their hands. She sobbed and screamed, terror and pain consuming her body and mind, the whole ordeal unfolding like a living nightmare.