She stared at me in disbelief, then shrieked, "You bitch! You dare to hit—"

I slapped her again, a sharp backhand this time. "Are you satisfied yet?" I asked coldly.

Two slaps were enough to extinguish her arrogance. She stumbled back, tears streaming down her face, and hid behind Grayson.

"Grayson, you have to stand up for me!"

Grayson pulled her into a protective embrace, his eyes fixed on me with murderous intent. "You dare touch my girl? You must have a death wish!"

He gestured to the bodyguards behind him to seize me.

I moved first, taking one of them down with a quick strike, but I could handle one, not two.

After taking a few blows, I fell to the ground in pain. Two bodyguards hauled me to my feet and dragged me in front of the couple.

Grayson gave Yara his blessing. "Yara, my love, do whatever you want to her today. I'll handle any consequences."

With his backing, Yara’s confidence returned. She slapped me twice, then spat right in my face.

"You bitch! You were so high and mighty a minute ago. Where's that attitude now?"

Then, she kicked me hard in the stomach.

Clutching my abdomen, I glared up at her and Grayson.

"You'll regret this. I swear, I won't let either of you get away with this!"

Yara laughed hysterically. "The Sinclairs are one of the three most powerful families in New York. What makes a pauper like you think you can fight me?"

"Today, I'm going to teach you what happens when you cross me!"

She pulled a pair of nail clippers from her purse and dragged the sharp edge across my cheek.

A searing pain shot through my skin as it swelled and began to bleed.

Someone in the crowd murmured, "We told her not to mess with the Sinclairs. She didn't listen, and now she's paying the price."

"It's a shame, though. Such a pretty face, ruined."

"It just goes to show, for us regular folks, it's better to just keep your head down."

Yara brandished the nail clippers again, ready to strike my face. The fear of being permanently disfigured consumed me, and I broke.

"I'm sorry! The dress is yours! I shouldn't have fought you for it!"

Revenge is a dish best served cold. Right now, I just needed to save my face.

But Yara just slashed my cheek again. "You bitch! It's too late for apologies now."

"I won't let you go until I've gotten my satisfaction!"

I screamed in pain and turned my desperate eyes to Grayson. "Grayson, aren't you afraid of who I am? You'll regret letting her do this to me!"

Grayson sneered. "Who are you? Just the daughter of some vixen who managed to bewitch my father into forcing this ridiculous engagement on me!"

A vicious glint appeared in Yara's eyes. "If your mother is a vixen, you must be a little fox. Today, I'm going to strip you naked and cleanse you of that whore's stench!"

"No!"

Just then, my phone rang from inside my purse. I struggled to reach it, but Yara snatched it away.

She swiped to answer, and my mother's voice filled the air.

"Vivian, honey, how is the dress shopping going?"

"Mom, help me!" I screamed. "I've been beaten, and she's threatening to strip me!"

My mother's voice turned frantic. "What! Who's doing this?"

Yara leaned into the phone, her voice dripping with malice. "It's me, your worst nightmare. Your little vixen of a daughter was seducing men in public, so of course I had to teach her a lesson!"

"I don't care who you are!" my mother yelled. "You let my daughter go right now, or you'll regret it when I get there!"

"Bring it on! I'll be waiting right here. I'll tear that vixen hide right off you, too!"

With a sharp crack, Yara hung up and smashed my phone on the ground.

She slapped me again. "You and your mother are both whores. When she gets here, I'll strip her naked right alongside you!"

Every second felt like an eternity. It had only been five minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.

Finally, a familiar, custom stretched Lincoln appeared in my line of sight.

The door opened, and my mother stepped out. "Let's see," she said, her voice dangerously calm, "who dares to speak of skinning me alive!"