The once bustling banquet hall fell into a stunned silence as my furious shout echoed through the room.
Everyone stared in shock as Frank and I tugged at each other.
I felt humiliated, trying to yank my hand away, but his grip only tightened.
He kept repeating the same words:
"Why are you here? Dressed like this! Who brought you?"
A flood of questions, as if he weren’t my bitter enemy.
But more like a betrayed boyfriend.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his grip grew stronger, leaving red marks on my soft, delicate skin.
I was furious—the harder I struggled, the tighter he held on.
I even wondered if, without the crowd, he might have strangled me on the spot.
He certainly seemed capable of it, especially as he took in my appearance, dressed like a delicate rose fresh after the rain.
