I couldn’t believe it.
How could someone who so desecrated the dead have become a captain?
Swallowing my anger, I tried reasoning with him:
“That was your father! How can you be so heartless?”
“In any case, I don’t agree.”
His face darkened instantly. Without a word, he grabbed my hand, pressed it into the red ink, and forced my fingerprint onto the document. His grip was so strong it nearly crushed my wrist.
“You’ll drink the penalty wine if you won’t drink the toast!”
Grinding my teeth, I shouted angrily, “Michael, if you treat me this way, you’ll regret it!”
The next second, a stack of files slammed into my face.
The sharp corner left a long cut across my cheek.
“Emily Summers, you only ever oppressed me by clinging to your father’s influence,” he spat.
“Now that he’s gone, what exactly would I regret?”
He shoved me hard. My waist hit the desk edge, pain shooting through me as I fell.
The man before me felt like a stranger.
Gone was the husband who used to fuss over me at the slightest frown.
I caught the flicker of satisfaction in Sophie’s eyes.
She quickly tugged at his sleeve, comforting him: “Captain, don’t waste your anger on your sister-in-law. Don’t dirty your hands.”