“No, really, Michael. I’m sure Emma is sorry for what happened. You don’t need to make her apologize to me,” Allison interjected, her Bambi eyes looking up at Michael with feigned innocence.
“Stop being nice to her. She doesn’t deserve it,” Michael snapped back.
I ignored their petty arguments and focused on serving myself some food. It had been a rough day yesterday, and I hadn’t even managed to have dinner.
Seeing my indifference, Michael’s frustration boiled over. He stormed over to me, yanked my arm, and dragged me roughly to stand beside Allison. My spoon clattered to the floor, and I felt a surge of annoyance.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shot him a furious glare.
“I said apologize to her!” Michael snapped, his voice cold and commanding. The room fell silent, the tension palpable.
I clenched my teeth, my voice trembling with anger, “And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll make you,” he said, pushing me roughly so that I fell to my knees on the floor.
He pinned my shoulder down, and I struggled to get up, but his strength was too much for me, especially now when I was physically and emotionally drained. Some maids approached, clearly concerned, but Michael’s roar sent them fleeing.