Giovanni’s POV

The air in the mall was still thick with the sting of that stranger’s mockery. My pulse hadn’t yet steadied, but I forced myself to keep my head high as Mitchell’s hand shot out like a whip.

Her movements were precise, practiced—like a blade cutting clean through silk. In one sharp motion, she seized the woman’s wrist, wrenched the phone free, and pulled it into her own hand.

“Hey! Give that back!” the woman screeched, clutching at empty air.

Mitchell’s ...