Then, without a warning, one of the guests—clearly drunk—stumbled over to me. His leering smile sent a chill down my spine as his eyes fixated on my cleavage. I tried to step away, but he suddenly grabbed my arm, his hand sliding down to my thigh.
Instinctively, I slapped him twice across the face, hard enough to draw attention. Then, I bolted toward my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I had seen Donovan watching the scene unfold, and I knew there would be consequences for my actions.
And I was right.
At around four in the morning, when the party's over, loud, relentless knocks pounded on my door, jolting me awake. Fear surged through me as I heard Donovan's furious shouts. Trembling, I rose from the bed and cautiously opened the door.
The moment he saw me, he grabbed me by the neck, his grip so tight I could barely breathe.
"Let me go…" I gasped, struggling to speak.
He released me only to hit my face with a vicious slap. "What the hell was that stunt you pulled earlier? Are you trying to humiliate me, Clara? You're shameless!"