Instantly, Sheena’s eyes turned ice-cold, as if looking at a sworn enemy. “Stephen, I will never waste another ounce of emotion on someone as vile as you for the rest of my life!”
Her words shattered the fleeting guilt in Stephen’s heart. His face twisted in anger. “Fine! Sheena, you’re really something!”
He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the storage room, slamming the door shut.
Before locking it, Stephen spat out his final words, his voice trembling with rage, “Sheena, you can stay there until you come to your senses and agree to make breakfast. If not, then rot in there for all I care!”
With that, he stormed off, taking Jasmin with him. Before leaving, he sternly instructed the servants. “Don’t let her out until she admits she was wrong and cook breakfast!”
What Stephen didn’t know was that Sheena was already running a high fever.
Her sprained ankle, untreated from the night before, had swollen grotesquely. On top of that, her skin had scraped against the rough ground as she was dragged, leaving raw, bleeding wounds.
The searing pain on her scalp from having her hair yanked was now the least of her worries.