Chapter 12: Confrontation

Devon staggered into the room, reeking of booze, causing me to startle and sit up abruptly. He wasted no time, immediately pinning me down on the bed.

His breath, tainted with the scent of wine, assaulted my senses as he leaned in close. "Aria, have I treated you so well that you've forgotten who you are?"

I couldn't focus on my identity at that moment; all I wanted was to escape from his grasp.

Struggling against his hold only seemed to make him tighten his grip. He firmly clasped my shoulders, his gaze running over me from head to toe. "Don't even think about moving."

Fear immobilized me as I stared back at him, unable to make a move.

He began planting kisses on my lips and cheeks without discrimination. As I turned my head to avoid his advances, the image of him at the bar earlier, being kissed by another woman, made my stomach churn with disgust.

Seizing a moment of distraction, I managed to free one hand and delivered a stinging slap across his face.

The instant I struck him, it felt like I had poked a sleeping tiger, and fear gripped my body involuntarily.

To my surprise, he froze, his reaction not the expected outburst of rage but rather a calm, intense stare. After a long moment, he rose silently and left the room.

It took me hours lying in bed, trembling with apprehension, before I could muster the steadiness to reach for the glass of water beside me.