Quickly, I spun around and kicked Harvey in the jaw.
He slammed into the wall, and the dagger he’d used to try to ambush me flew out of his hand.
“Ah—” he doubled over, clutching his abdomen.
The wound that had only recently healed began to bleed again.
“A sneak attack? You’re asking for death!” Faye shouted, raising a fist.
She struck me hard across the face.
Her expression was colder than I had ever seen. Her brows were drawn into a sharp, unyielding line.
I touched my cheek and felt the wet trail of blood at the corner of my mouth.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s okay. I’m…” Faye murmured, then paused.
She gathered Harvey into her arms, letting his blood soak into her costly gown.
The pain and panic in her eyes.
I’d only seen them once before, and it was the day I lost my right leg.
Back then, the setting sun was the color of blood.
She had clutched my hand to her chest, tears threatening, yet forcing a smile as she stroked my face and repeated over and over, “Don’t be afraid. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m with you.”
But now she looked at me with nothing but icy indifference.
“If divorce is what you truly want, then fine. You’ll have it.”
I suddenly laughed.