Chapter 15 - The Slap
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The slap echoed in the quiet bedroom with the sharp, violent crack of a gunshot.
The force of the blow knocked Erin’s head violently to the side. Her cheek burned instantly, a blinding flash of pain radiating across her jaw. The edge of Caroline’s heavy diamond engagement ring caught the corner of Erin’s mouth, tearing the delicate skin. A hot drop of blood immediately welled up, sliding down her chin.
Erin stumbled backward, clutching her face, her ears ringing.
Caroline stood over her, breathing heavily, her pristine white gown contrasting sharply with the monstrous expression on her face.
“You are nothing!” Caroline screamed, losing every ounce of her carefully cultivated aristocratic control. “You are a pathetic, dirty little maid! You think Nathaniel cares about you? He paid your mother’s bill to ease his own conscience! You are a charity case! The moment I have his ring on my finger, I am throwing you out onto the street!”
“She isn't going anywhere.”
The voice was terrifyingly calm. It wasn't a shout. It was a cold, absolute execution order.
Caroline froze. The color drained completely from her face.
She turned slowly.
Nathaniel stood in the doorway. He was wearing his tailored black wedding tuxedo, looking like a dark, wrathful god. His eyes were not on his beautiful bride. They were fixed entirely on the blood dripping from the corner of Erin’s mouth.
The air in the room turned to ice.
“Nathaniel,” Caroline gasped, instantly trying to arrange her face into a mask of victimhood, though her hands were shaking violently. “She attacked me! She tried to ruin my dress, she was acting crazy, I had to defend myself—”
Nathaniel didn't even look at her. He walked past his bride as if she were a piece of broken furniture, closing the distance between himself and Erin.
He reached out, his long fingers gently, reverently touching Erin’s uninjured cheek. He tilted her face up to the light, inspecting the cut on her lip. The fierce, protective fury radiating from him was palpable, heating the air around them.
“Are you alright?” Nathaniel whispered, his voice rough with restrained violence.
“I’m fine,” Erin breathed, staring into his dark, storm-filled eyes. “The tea… she poisoned your mother’s tea.”
Nathaniel’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped visibly beneath his skin. He slowly turned his head to look at Caroline.
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The cold, dead stare he gave her made Caroline physically step backward, her intricate lace train tangling around her feet.
“The wedding is off,” Nathaniel said softly.
