"Dylan, very soon you'll understand the price you have to pay," I said slowly, watching his face tighten with rage. "Everything you're so proud of? It's all going to be buried because of your own stupidity. The Hartman Group? That's the price for the leg you gave me."
My words hit him like a bolt.
Dylan flinched, the last remnants of his composure slipping away.
Without a second thought, he grabbed my neck, shoving me down hard. My back hit the sharp edge of the table, pain shooting through me, the world around me dimming.
He didn't give me a moment to breathe.
Dylan yanked my hair, snapping my head back, so I had no choice but to look at him.
"Elaine, who the hell do you think you are?" he growled. "You're a cripple, and you still have the nerve to shout at me! I could lift you into the sky or throw you straight into hell! I want your dead mother to see what her proud daughter has become—a pathetic wreck, not even fully human, not even a ghost!"
But he wasn't done.
His grip loosened on my wrist, just slightly, as if testing me, savoring the power.