The mention of Julian and Lesley together, coupled with the terrifc reality of my situation, snapped something inside me. The fear was instantly replaced by a volcanic eruption of sheer, blinding fury.
This wasn't just about a broken marriage; it was about survival, about my very dignty being crushed.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. The tremor in my body ceased, replaced by a terrifying, cold calm. He loosened his grip, confident in his victory. That fraction of a second was my salvation.
My hand shot out, not to strike his face, but to seize the fruit knife lying on the floor beside the couch.
Adrenaline-fueled, I swung the small blade, a desperate, clumsy movement. Deccan gasped, his expression melting into vicious shock as the knife nicked his cheek. A thin line of blood immediately beaded and trickled down.
"You bitch!" he roared, stumbling back and freeing my hair.
Scrambling backward, I pushed myself off the couch, clutching the knife like a talisman.
"Stay away from me, Deccan," I spat, my voice low and steady."Julian may have sold me, but I am not bought. You will not touch me."