Joshua cradled her against his chest, his face softening with concern. But when he looked up at me, his eyes were glacial.
"Faith, are you crazy?"
He lunged forward, shoving me hard.
My back slammed into the wall. The impact jarred my organs, knocked the breath from my lungs.
"I warned you not to touch Isabella." His face hovered inches from mine, murderous. "Do you think our history protects you? Do you think I won't hurt you?"
*History?*
Did he really believe any sentiment remained between us?
If he knew me at all, he would know that dignity was the only thing I had left. He would know I never raised a hand against anyone—unless I was pushed past the point of endurance.
I struggled to stand, using the wall for support.
No explanations.
No tears.
I simply smoothed my messy hair and pointed toward the bathroom. *I need to wash my face.*
My indifference infuriated him.
He let out a sharp, cold laugh.
"Fine. Good."
His sneer deepened. "Since you like being invisible, you can stay that way. You're not coming to the charity gala tonight."
His gaze raked over me with disdain. "I was going to take you out. Let you relax. But a crazy woman like you deserves to rot in this house."