Curvy Bride Claimed by the Mafia Don: He Made the Men Who Laughed at Her Kneel novel · Chapter 23 of 24

Chapter 23: Her Own Vows

The side of my face burned, and I could taste blood where my teeth had caught the inside of my cheek.

I didn't touch it.

I looked straight at Joyce Tully, who was still standing with her palm up in the air, shaking.

"Mrs. Tully," I said, very clearly, so the back row could hear it. "You just hit a woman in front of two hundred witnesses."

Her hand dropped to her side.

Silvio was already there.

He didn't touch me.

He didn't touch her either.

He turned his head and said a single word, flat and carrying.

He said it to the man in the black suit at the end of the front pew.

"Security."

The hotel's security men came down the side aisle in a hurry, two of them in navy blazers, with radios clipped to their belts.

They took Joyce by the elbows without asking.

"Let go of me," Joyce said. "Let go, I'm a member of this club."

"You're a guest of the Marlowe, ma'am," one of the men said, not unkindly. "And you just assaulted a guest. We're walking you out."

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