Chapter 17 Because I Like The Way It Hurts

• I had made my choice. My hand, suspended in mid-air, swung swiftly toward Ian’s face, a face gleaming with both astonishment and triumph. The sharp slap silenced all the gunfire, explosions, and destruction in the room; it was as if time had frozen in that second, the universe focused on the broken past between us.
• Ian recoiled from the force of the blow, his self-assured, savior-like mask shattering instantly. He clutched his cheek, then his chin, his face meeting my horrified gaze. I was certain he hadn’t expected that slap, that hatred.
• “Who are you!” I roared, my voice echoing off the crumbling walls of the room. “How dare you defile my husband’s mansion! By what right do you enter here!”