Jayce's POV
The waitress had barely handed me the bottle and a fresh glass when I heard it.
A sharp c***k came from the private room.
My heart jumped. I shoved the tray back into the waitress’s hands and rushed inside. With Brielle’s mood lately, there was no telling what she might do.
The moment I pushed the door open, I knew something was wrong.
Everyone had gone quiet, their eyes fixed on the center of the room. I followed their gaze, my throat suddenly dry.
Kenna was sprawled on the floor, one hand pressed to her cheek. A red handprint was already forming on her skin.
Brielle stood over her, breathing hard. Fury burned in her eyes, the same fury I’d seen that morning when she threw Kenna’s gift away.
There was no doubt in my mind. She had hit her.
“I trusted you, Kenna,” Briel
