Without thinking, Annette stormed toward the alley, shouting at the men. Startled, they all turned to her, shock instantly twisting into anger and irritation.
The man holding the woman's purse tossed it aside, a sly smile stretching across his lips as he took a step forward, his eyes raking over Annette from head to toe.
Annette shot a glare at the one with the knife pressed against the crying woman's face. "Let her go. Now," she spat.
The woman's eyes widened, staring at Annette as though she had lost her mind.
"Who do you think you're talking to?" the man barked. "Get out of here before I rip your tongue out."
Her jaw clenched. Slowly, she bent down and picked up a small stone, then, without warning, hurled it at him. It struck his eye.
He groaned in pain, the sudden impact forcing him to loosen his grip on the woman.
Annette seized the moment, yanking the woman behind her. The second man, his chipped tooth visible as he cursed, charged toward her, but Annette was ready.
She caught his arm, twisted it sharply, and slammed him against the wall. Swinging her leg back, she kicked the back of his knee, sending him crashing down. Another swift kick connected with his jaw, knocking him backward.
Just then, the first man recovered, screaming as he staggered toward them, one eye swollen shut, the other blazing red.
"We need to run!" Annette breathed to the woman behind her.
The woman glanced at her purse and the contents scattered across the ground. "But I—"
Annette grabbed her arm and pulled her along as they took off, the men shouting and chasing after them.
She felt the woman begin to slow, panic tightening in her chest. At this pace, they would be caught. Thinking quickly, Annette scanned their surroundings, searching for a way to divert the men's attention.
If the woman was safe, Annette could handle the rest. She could take those scurrying men down on her own.
They turned into another alley, and there Annette spotted it—the perfect hiding place. She pointed toward a large abandoned carriage.
"Hide behind there," she whispered urgently. "And don't come out until you're sure the coast is clear."
"Thank you, miss. I—"
"We can do this another time. Go hide. Now," Annette urged.
The woman offered her a soft, grateful smile before slipping behind the abandoned carriage.
As the men drew closer, Annette picked up her pace, deliberately leading them deeper into the alley until they reached a dead end.
"I'm going to enjoy cutting you up," one of them snarled as they paused, struggling to catch their breath.
Annette pushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face.
"I'd like to see you try, you fucking bastards."
They sneered and rushed her together, the man with the chipped tooth swinging first, knife in hand. Annette sidestepped easily, driving her foot into his back. She rolled across the ground, grabbing a discarded stick and wielding it like a sword.
With swift precision, she struck—jabbing at stomachs and groins while evading their clumsy attacks. They were slow, reckless, and it gave her the advantage. She knocked the knife from one man's hand and followed up with a punch that snapped his nose.
Turning to the other, Annette drove her fingers into his eyes, leaving him screaming and blind with pain.
"That was fun," Annette said coolly, pointing the stick at them. "Now run along fools."
They didn't need to be told twice. Stumbling over themselves, the men fled down the alley, vanishing from sight.
Annette let out a long breath and looked down at herself. Her hair was a mess, strands falling everywhere, and her dress was streaked with dust.
"Fuck," she muttered, tossing the stick aside. She ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it as best she could, then brushed the dirt from her dress. There was no mirror, but she hoped she looked presentable enough.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she made her way back toward the seamstress's shop. She glanced around for the woman, but she was gone. Hopefully, she had made it home safely. That was all that mattered.
As Annette neared the shop, she spotted Grace standing outside with the three seamstresses. Their eyes widened the moment they saw her.
"Oh my goodness! What happened to you?" Tali gasped.
So much for looking presentable, Annette thought dryly.
Estelle studied her with suspicion. "We've been looking for you. Where did you go?"
"I… ran into a bit of trouble," Annette said with an awkward chuckle. "But don't worry. I handled it just fine."
Grace pressed her lips into a thin line. "Let's go. We should return to the mansion."
"Wonderful," Annette added, relief washing over her at the thought of escaping the prying eyes of those women.
They moved toward the carriage. Annette climbed in first while the other women remained outside.
"Dear gods, she is such a shameful woman…"
"Meeting a man out in the open."
"She thought we were fools. A whore will always be a whore."
Annette swallowed hard, her fists clenching tightly at her sides. She heard every word clearly, despite their whispers.
How dare those fat hags insult her so openly?
Anger burned through her, and for a moment she was tempted to fling the carriage door open and give them a piece of her mind. But she forced herself to remain still. There was no point confronting them.
Moments later, Grace climbed into the carriage, her gaze fixed straight ahead as it rolled into motion.
As soon as they arrived, Annette hurriedly climbed down, striding back toward her chambers and ignoring the burning glare from Gabriel. She glanced at him briefly, feigning a sweet smile as she subtly lifted her middle finger in his direction.
He arched a brow before a small, amused smile curved his lips.
Annette rolled her eyes and stormed up the stairs. Reaching her room, she slammed the door shut and peeled off her clothes before sinking into the lukewarm, rose-scented bath. A sigh slipped from her lips as the warmth enveloped her.
"Fuck, this is so nice."
"Stop cursing, Daphne."
Annette nearly jumped out of her skin, a hand flying to her chest as she looked up to see the Viscount stepping into the light.
"I would assume you're intelligent enough," he added coolly, "to find better words to express yourself."