"Who the hell are you talking to?"
The dozen or so men couldn't take that sitting down. Knives in hand, they surged forward, closing in on Stella Sterling.
"I'm talking to you, of course. Was I not clear enough?"
Stella Sterling's tone was incredibly blunt. As she spoke, she glanced over at the bound captives.
Their eyes lit up, full of anticipation.
But after a single glance, Stella Sterling looked away.
Her expression was cold, and her eyes held no trace of sympathy for them.
When the captives saw her expression, their hearts sank.
When she had first made her move, they had hoped she could take care of these thugs and rescue them.
These newcomers had their own boat and clearly came from a powerful background. It seemed very likely they could be saved. They might even be allowed to join their rescuers' group.
But her expression was so cold, her gaze so devoid of pity, that their burgeoning hope evaporated.
