Katrina
The smack came fast—no warning, no words. Just Liam’s palm cracking against my cheek, sending my head sideways and the taste of blood rushing in like a tide.
“Ungrateful b***h,” he snarled, grabbing the plate from the counter and hurling it at me. It hit the wall just beside my shoulder, splattering hot pasta and ceramic shards across the floor. One piece nicked my arm. I didn’t flinch.
That pissed him off more.
“You think you’re still the Don’s daughter?” he spat, stepping closer, chest heaving. “You’re nothing now. Just a pretty toy in a town nobody gives a damn about.”
I stared at the mess on the floor. Tomato sauce bleeding into the grout like a crime scene. My cheek throbbed. My arm stung. But inside, I was ice.
He wanted a reaction. Wanted me to scream, cry, beg. I u
