Page 33 of The Billionaire's Vow

Giselle blinked, surprised not only by his concern but also by why he was concerned.No one—no man—had ever stood up for her like this.Women usually supported each other, but men?They ignored those kinds of insults, brushed them aside as jokes or harmless jabs.

But Dimitri had reacted with unflinching, menacing precision.

“I’m fine,” she said, more quietly than she intended.

Dimitri gave her a long, assessing look before turning his attention back to the sniveling mess on the floor.His voice was pure ice when he spoke.“Get out of my sight, Miller.”

Elliot flinched and scrambled to his feet.

Dimitri finally glanced at him, his mouth curling with cold amusement.“You might want to have someone take a look at that hand.”

Giselle peeked around Dimitri’s broad shoulders to see Elliot stumble toward the door, his gait unsteady.He moved so quickly in his eagerness to escape that he smacked his shoulder against the doorframe, emitting a sharp hiss of pain, recoiling like a kicked dog.

Dimitri lifted a finger, silencing whatever Giselle had been about to say.Then, with unhurried ease, he turned to the dour-looking bodyguard standing just outside the door.“Make sure Mr.Miller gets safely to a doctor,” he ordered, his voice rich with mock sympathy.“He’s going to need some extra attention today.”

The bodyguard, a solid wall of a man who had remained impressively neutral throughout the exchange, gave a single nod.And was that—?

Had he just smiled?

Before Giselle could be certain, the bodyguard turned, following Elliot down the hall, though there wasn’t much help in the way he ushered the man along.

Giselle exhaled slowly, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

Dimitri had humiliated Elliot, forced him to acknowledge her worth, and made it clear—without hesitation—that no one could get away with disrespecting her in his presence.

It left her shaken in a way she hadn’t expected.Not because she was afraid, but because… no one had ever done that for her before.

No one had ever fought for her.

“Giselle!”Dimitri called, snapping her back to the present.His voice was sharp, commanding, but there was something else beneath it.Concern.“Are you hurt?”

“No,” she said automatically, though her answer came out softer than intended.Then she scowled, regaining some of her composure.“Did you have to hurt Elliot’s hand like that?”

Dimitri’s jaw flexed, his expression cooling.“Why do women always defend their abusers?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but then shut it just as quickly.She wasn’t defending Elliot… was she?

She scrambled to justify her reaction, but the moment she really thought about it, the truth settled over her like a heavy weight.Elliothadbeen taking advantage of her.For years.Dumping extra work on her desk, holding back promotions, keeping her in a position where she was always trying to prove herself but never actually getting ahead.

She had been grateful for the job, eager to please, willing to shoulder the workload because she thought it would pay off in the end.But had it been fair?Had it been right?

And there was the salary issue.

“What did you mean about my raises?”she asked, looking up at him with wide, searching eyes.

Dimitri didn’t hesitate.“I looked into your salary history, Giselle.You’ve been underpaid for years, despite receiving excellent performance reviews.You should have been earning significantly more.”His voice was pure steel, controlled but laced with quiet fury.“You’ll be receiving a raise for this position, and I’m also making sure you get back pay for the money you were cheated out of.”

Her stomach flipped.“I…was?”she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His expression softened slightly, a hint of amusement breaking through the hard lines of his face.“You were.And you are.”

She swallowed, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.Dimitri shifted imperceptibly closer, his presence taking up more space, his warmth reaching her even though they weren’t touching.

“No one will ever take advantage of you again,” he said, his voice dropping lower.

A shiver ran through her.Not from fear.Not from nerves.From something else entirely.

She wanted him to touch her.Nothing wild, just—just a brush of his fingers against her arm, a fleeting graze of his hand across her own.Something to ground her, to let her know this moment was real.She clenched her hands into fists, resisting the urge to reach out to him.