Then, just like the night before, she lifted her hand to her neck and began scratching. Hard.
Red marks bloomed instantly across her skin, raw and irritated, as if someone had grabbed her violently.
I stood there, watching.
Something inside me finally snapped.
Enough.
Before I could think it through, before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and slapped her.
Hard.
The sound rang out, sharp and clear.
Everything went silent. The kind of silence that only falls in a place run by men who understand violence. The kind where nobody breathes until they know whose side to take.
And that was the exact moment Salvatore walked in.
He saw everything.
Or at least, what it looked like.
Me, standing there, upright, composed.
And Adriana, soaked, disheveled, trembling, like a fragile creature that had just been attacked.
There wasn't even a second of hesitation.
His hand came down across my face.
The force sent my head jerking to the side, a sharp sting blooming across my cheek.
"Elena!" he snapped, his voice cold with anger. "If you don't want to be here anymore, then get the hell out."
He didn't wait for a response.
Still visibly furious, he shoved me aside, his shoulder hitting mine hard enough to make me lose my balance. Then, without another glance in my direction, he bent down, scooped Adriana up into his arms.
A perfect bridal carry.
Like a man rescuing someone who needed saving.
And carried her straight into his office. The heavy door slammed shut behind them, and the silver lighter he'd left on the edge of his desk didn't so much as rattle. It just sat there, still.
I staggered back from the force of his shove, my body colliding with the edge of a nearby desk. Pain shot up my spine instantly, sharp and blinding. My vision blurred for a second as tears welled up in my eyes.
But I didn't cry.
I just stood there.
The front-operation overseer, who had been hesitating over my severance papers just minutes ago, now stepped forward without a word. His expression had changed completely.
He picked up the document.
Signed it.
Stamped it.
Approved.
No questions asked. No delay.
Salvatore didn't even come out. He didn't look at the form. Didn't ask anything. Someone brought it into his office, and while he was busy comforting Adriana, he scribbled his signature across the page without even glancing at it.
Then tossed it aside like it meant nothing.
Like I meant nothing.