Those were the only two Rosalind hadn't laid a hand on.
Hearing this, a jolt went through Daniel. How did she know he was doing this for them...?
Rosalind's voice was casual. "Taking a contract is taking a contract. Taking a job from me is still taking a job. Why not work for me? At least it's legal."
Daniel had taken on so many jobs: helping people catch their cheating spouses, intimidating mistresses, dealing with mothers-in-law.
There were bad ones, too.
All sorts of jobs. But usually, just their presence was enough to scare ordinary people. Even those who weren't scared didn't see them as good people.
This was the first time they'd failed to intimidate someone and ended up being recruited as underlings instead.
Daniel said in a low voice, "We don't do anything too extreme."
"I'm a doctor. I treat people. What could be so extreme about that?" Rosalind's lips curved into a half-smile.
Daniel still didn't believe she was a doctor and was about to speak.
Rosalind cut him off coolly. "The one with the limp. Injured in a car accident. It aches when the weather's damp. The injury is recent."
Now it wasn't just Daniel; even the younger thugs stared wide-eyed. "How do you know that?!"
"Is it that difficult?" Rosalind's eyes were as black as ink. "All doctors learn to read bones, just to varying degrees."
Daniel grew agitated, his voice trembling. "Then, miss, can you... can you fix his leg? We'll pay whatever it costs!"
"You don't have to, I..." The boy with the limp stepped forward. Under the streetlight, his age became clear. He couldn't have been more than fifteen. His features were nothing like the other thugs'—he was delicate and fair-skinned, with naturally white hair that he kept hidden under a baseball cap.
Daniel snapped at him, "You be quiet!"
The boy lowered his gaze. "We don't have any money left. And it doesn't hurt that much."
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