Every vicious insult she could conjure, thrown like knives aimed at my heart.
Unfortunately for her, I couldn't hear a single word.
To me, she looked like a mime in a silent film—baring her fangs, waving her claws, looking utterly ridiculous.
I stepped around her, heading for the bathroom.
Isabella lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked my head back.
"I'm talking to you! You deaf bitch!"
*Deaf.*
Well. She got one thing right.
I spun around.
My gaze turned to ice.
I might be deaf, but I wasn't stupid. And I certainly wasn't a punching bag.
I raised my hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had left.
*Crack.*
I couldn't hear the sound, but my palm stung from the impact.
Isabella froze, clutching her cheek, staring at me in disbelief.
A split second later, Isabella threw herself backward with a silent scream.
Her timing was flawless—collapsing right into Joshua's arms as he rushed over to investigate the commotion.
"Joshua! She hit me! She called me a homewrecker and said she wanted to ruin my face!"
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her body trembled like a delicate flower in a storm.
A perfect performance.