But the chair came down anyway, splintering with a deafening crack. The blow landed hard, and blood poured from my mouth.
"Dad, stop hitting my husband!" Chelsea cried, her eyes swollen and raw from hours of weeping.
"This bastard is not your husband!" Douglas’s voice was chilling, devoid of any warmth.
He approached me quickly, bent down, and grabbed my collar, his cold stare locking with mine. It was a look that made my skin crawl, as if I were gazing into the darkness of an abyss.
"Do you know why I’m hitting you?"
I stayed silent, trembling from the excruciating pain.
"It’s not because you want to end the engagement with my daughter. It’s not because you want to leave her. It’s because... you’re not even human!"
He paused, letting his words sink in, before continuing. "On the night of the engagement, when Chelsea was assaulted, I was told you were in the men’s restroom. The hotel janitor saw you there."
In other words, I was most likely a witness. I had probably seen the man who assaulted her.
“What… what did you say? Anthony saw it happen?”
Miriam could no longer hold herself back. She rushed toward her husband.
"Yes. He must have seen him," Douglas confirmed firmly.