Marina Pruitt fixed her gaze on me. "Godfrey Simmons, it was a joke. Are you really that thin-skinned?"
I swallowed my rage. "This has nothing to do with being thin-skinned. I want a divorce."
Tristan Lawrence's eyes instantly turned red. "Godfrey, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just trying to liven up the party. I had no idea you were so sensitive..."
I looked at him, a cold smile tugging at my lips. "Then let me crack a joke of my own. If I'm not mistaken, your sister has a red birthmark shaped like a plum blossom on her left thigh. And her figure's not bad either..."
"You—"
Tristan's face flushed crimson. He turned to Marina, eyes brimming with wounded innocence.
Crack.
Marina's palm connected with my face so hard my head snapped to the side. "Godfrey Simmons, are you done making a scene?"
I pressed my hand to my stinging cheek and stared at her.
She hit me. For an outsider, she hit me.
"You were spying on Tristan's sister?" Her voice shook with fury. "Get on your knees right now and beg him for forgiveness!"
A laugh tore out of me, bitter and wet. "When he humiliates me, you tell me to be the bigger person. When I fire back, you want me on my knees? Is that how this works?"