Her voice was sharp, cutting through me like needles. My head buzzed, and the allergic reaction worsened by the second. The room blurred into indistinct shadows, and the chaotic noise around me faded into an eerie hum.
I yanked my hand free from under her heel, desperate to get away. I didn’t care if I had to crawl.
I just needed to escape this nightmare.
But Margot wasn’t finished with me. She barked orders at her bodyguards, who quickly blocked my path and dragged me back to her.
"It hurts..." I finally let out a cry, the pain overwhelming me.
Margot hesitated briefly before grabbing my injured left hand, her grip tightening.
"Oh, quit playing the victim!" she snapped, her voice laced with disdain. "Even if your left hand is broken, you’ll still have to play something for Steve."
Steven, ever the opportunist, chimed in with a faux concern, "Want me to help clean him up a bit? He’s looking pretty filthy."
Margot shot me a cold glance, her lip curling in disdain. "Don’t bother. No amount of cleaning will fix what’s already dirty on the inside." She paused, her voice dripping with venom. "Let him keep up this little charade. It’ll just show everyone what happens when you try to cross me."