The man was clearly inebriated as he pinned Gabrielle down, sloppily kissing her face with unwanted affection.

Gabrielle, weakened by alcohol, struggled in vain, her eyes shut tight as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Estelle turned to leave, but then she heard the unmistakable sound of fabric ripping—Gabrielle’s dress had been torn off.

“Estelle!” Gabrielle’s choked sobs barely carried over the din of the raucous party.

Drawing in a deep breath, Estelle spun on her heel and marched back, confronting the man. “Let her go!”

Gabrielle turned her head with effort towards Estelle, her eyes brimming with fear and a silent plea for help.

The man was tall and burly, his belt undone, as he menacingly turned to Estelle, sneering, “Isn’t a bridesmaid just party entertainment?”

This wasn’t drunken misconduct, it was intentional. The Langston family was in the entertainment business and with the myriad of guests, it was inevitable that a few bad apples would surface.

As Estelle approached the brute, his eyes glinted with malice. “Care to join the fun?”

when Estelle’s foot connected with his chest, sending him staggering backwards as if struck

with a vicious glare, he grabbed a nearby chair to swing at

stepping closer and slapping him

against the wall, gasping for air when the sound of shattering wood filled the room—Estelle had smashed the chair

open a window and, grabbing the man’s shirt, flung him

a ruthless efficiency that left no

window to see the man writhing on the ground. The two-story fall

cries attracted a waiter, who looked up in shock at

belied the situation, Estelle said, “Take him to see a doctor, or if that’s too much trouble, find

fetched another to help carry the

back to

had sobered Gabrielle up a bit. When she saw

I’ll remember that,” Estelle

Gabrielle nearly fainted.

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