Page 83 of The Dark Stranger
"This is what this is all about?" I say, louder now, disbelief cutting through the fog in my brain. "The same man I helped save his career? The man I loved genuinely? The one who couldn't keep his dick in his pants, so I left him?"
I stare at her, my vision swimming, my voice strained.
"Izzy?"
Jenna crouches down in front of me, her face so close I can smell her perfume—something expensive and cloying that makes my stomach turn. Her eyes behind the mask are bright, feverish, like she's enjoying this.
"Let's not forget," she says softly, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "that Izzy saved your life once upon a time."
I blink at her, my head still spinning, blood pooling in my mouth.
"Before you started dating him, you were mediocre at best," she continues, her tone sharpening. "You were wet behind the ears. Nobody. And then Izzy became that light that shined on you. He made you somebody."
She leans in closer, her breath hot against my face.
"How dare you disrespect him."
Her hand rises, fingers curled into a fist, and I brace myself for the blow—
The door slams open.
Jenna freezes mid-swing.
"Jenna!" Lionetti's voice cuts through the room like a whip. "What the hell are you doing?"
He strides in, his face a mask of cold fury. He's not yelling—he doesn't need to. The quiet rage in his voice is worse.
Jenna straightens immediately, her hand dropping to her side. "Daddy, I—"
"I told you to keep your anger in check!" he snaps, stopping in front of her. "No hits. Now look at her face!"
He gestures toward me, and I feel his eyes rake over me like I'm livestock being inspected.
"I need her bruise and blood-free in the face until the buyers take her," he says coldly. "Damaged bodies don't get me my money."
Jenna's shoulders slump. She pouts like a scolded child, her head dropping.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she murmurs. "We were just talking and I got a little carriedaway."
I laugh.
It's bitter, hoarse, and it hurts like hell, but I can't stop myself.
"Carried away?" I rasp, spitting blood onto the floor. "That's what you call carried away?"
I look up at Jenna, my vision swimming, and force a smirk.
"Good luck to Izzy. That piece of shit."
Jenna's face twists with rage. Her hand flies up again, but this time Lionetti catches her wrist mid-air.
"Enough," he says quietly.
She glares at me, her chest heaving, but she doesn't pull away from him.
Lionetti releases her wrist and jerks his head toward the door. "Go get yourself together. Have a drink, for Christ's sake. Go downstairs and wait with Izzy."
Jenna hesitates, her eyes still locked on mine, burning with hatred. But then she turns on her heel and storms out, the door slamming shut behind her.
