The moment Giselle landed, her mind went blank, her heart nearly stopping. It wasn't until she felt something shifting beneath her that she realized she was lying on top of someone.
Then that familiar scent hit her. She turned her head and found herself face-to-face with Donovan. In other words, the idiot who'd rushed in to catch her was him.
For a second, Giselle just stared, dumbstruck. Her mind was still foggy, her body numb to the pain.
Donovan, meanwhile, rolled his eyes and tried to sit up, but the searing agony in his back and left arm told him he was badly hurt.
Even though it was only a fall from the second floor, Giselle—an adult weighing around 100 pounds—would still hit the ground with enough force to injure anyone she landed on.
She had no idea what had gotten into Donovan, but he'd dashed in to catch her bare-handed, risking terrible injury. He must've acted on pure reflex to reach her in time.
"Don!" Anne was the first to reach him, her face frantic with panic. "Are you okay? Can you move? Are you hurt? What were you thinking, trying to save her?"
Meanwhile, Tony and Renee rushed downstairs in a panic, crowding around Donovan with frantic apologies and anxious questions about his injuries, their faces tight with worry.
Giselle—just as much a victim—sat slumped to the side, unnoticed, with no one bothering to check if she was alive.
Renee couldn't help grumbling, "Don, what were you thinking, charging in like that? Do you realize how dangerous that was? It could've hit your head—or something even worse! You scared me to death!"
Assuming Donovan didn't know the full story, she twisted the truth without hesitation, rounding on Giselle with venom.
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