ISABELLA
I stayed on the floor, trembling, my cheek burning from Selene’s slap. Rafael still held her wrist in a vice grip, his face a mask of pure, terrifying fury. The room felt smaller, the air thick with violence and unspoken history.
Selene yanked her arm, trying to free herself.
“Let me go, Rafael! You don’t understand what she’s done. She’s wormed her way in here like a parasite—”
“Enough,” Rafael snarled, voice low and lethal.
They started arguing like I wasn’t even in the room, like I was just furniture. Selene’s voice rose, sharp and venomous, throwing accusations about how I’d “stolen” him, how he wasn’t answering her calls because of me. Rafael fired back coldly, defending nothing about me but shutting down her demands. It hurt more than the slap. I was just… nothing. A
