Gianna felt like kicking Tom in the face again and again, even though it was already bloodied and clearly in need of stitches, swollen and grotesque on the floor.
And with the look on Mason's face as he glared at the fellow whimpering below him, jaw tight and eyes cold with contained fury, she knew the thought wasn't far away from his mind either.
Sharing a bed with Vance?
That surely topped the rumor of the year.
It was crazy what jealousy could make one do, what envy could drag someone down into—how it could rot a man enough to make such vicious, careless comments without thinking of consequence.
Already, his job was over. And if Mason went the extra mile, as she strongly suspected he would, the fellow wouldn't gain any job in any jewelry company for a long time.
She didn't pity him. Not even when he met her gaze pleadingly, eyes watery and desperate.
What? Where was the proudness that had made him speak such nonsense so boldly?
