The skinny man gave her no chance to breathe. Her face turned red from the strain, veins popping on her neck. She struggled with all her might until her strength gave out, and she felt herself about to suffocate.
"Let her go!" the bodyguard demanded.
The man who had been carrying the camera dropped his pretense, tossing the prop camera aside. "Since you insist, then have Alaric Davenport come here."
The skinny man finally eased his grip, allowing Rosalind Lowell to gasp for a few breaths.
"If you dare touch a single hair on her head, you're finished." The bodyguard's gaze was like a hawk's, fixed intently on the man who had been holding the camera.
Rosalind Lowell caught her breath, shoved the man aside, and climbed onto the rooftop railing.
"Ma'am!"
"What are you doing?" The group hadn't expected her to do something like this.
If something happened to her, not only would their threat be useless, but their own lives might be forfeit.
