"We were just racing for fun, but now you actually want me to cut off my finger?" Quincy stared at the knife Millie handed him, utterly incredulous.
Millie fluttered her eyelashes and feigned a look of innocence. "Oh, Quincy, that's not how it works. You can't just call it 'for fun' now that you lost."
Quincy was at a loss for words.
Millie immediately added, "It might have been just a game for you, but I gave it my all. Now, stop talking and cut off your finger!"
As she spoke, she tossed the knife to Quincy. If she had lost, he would have humiliated her to no end. But now, he claimed it was just for fun. Why didn't he mention that before the race?
Millie sized up Quincy, her disdain intensifying. Besides, a man like him, who disrespected women and was driven solely by his base instincts, was getting off lightly with just a finger. She should demand that he cut off his penis!
"You!" Quincy pointed at Millie, fuming with rage. He looked up and tried searching for Matt, but to no
