“She slapped me, Bryan!” she screamed hysterically. “I say sorry, but she said she’d kill me for taking the Bocuse d’Or Europe golden ticket!”
Bryan turned to me, his face twisted in disgust. “Are you out of your mind? How dare you attack Livia?"
"What else did you expect?" I asked, my voice trembling with disgust. "You’ve taken everything from me. You put me in the hospital while you celebrated Livia’s victory."
"Elena, stop being so dramatic," Bryan sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "It’s all over now. To be my wife, you’d better behave, got it?”
“Wife?” I laughed out loud. “I don’t want that.”
Bryan’s eyes narrowed. His eyebrows arched sharply. “Elena, I have to punish you,” his voice dropped low.
“How many times did she slap you?” Bryan asked, turning to Livia.
“Three,” she said, lying through her teeth.
Bryan stepped closer to me. Within seconds, his hand slapped me hard.
Three times.
The corner of my lip was bleeding.
My head was spinning, my body went limp. And slowly, I closed my eyes.
I was just pretending to faint. It hurt, but not enough to make me lose consciousness.
And then I heard what they were saying.