Without a moment's hesitation, she yanked open the car door, threw herself into the driver's seat, and floored the accelerator—aiming straight at me.
"You want to go against me? Then die!"
I was certain it was over. I closed my eyes.
My only thought was guilt. I'm sorry, Grandpa.
But the impact never came.
It was Charles.
He had stepped in front of me.
"Abigail, stop wasting time."
He looked at me with raised brows, his tone cold and brooking no argument.
"Give it to me."
"Just hand it over, and no one will make things difficult for you. You'll even get to see Grandpa."
No.
If I gave it to him, I'd never be able to face Grandpa again.
"Why are you even bothering to talk to her? If she won't hand it over, I have ways of getting it back."
Freya strode up to me, wound back her arm, and drove her fist into my stomach.
Fury surged through me. I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.
"You dare hit me?"
She touched her stinging cheek, her eyes turning vicious.
"Today, I'll show you exactly what I'm capable of."
Her fists rained down—on my head, my stomach.
Waves of pain crashed over me, sharp as needles. I had no way to fight back. All I could do was curl into myself and endure the blows.