Novel & Cerita Hard Hitting Questions

"It's clear that asking questions will get us nowhere in this case. I know people like her. They don't like things done the simple way but the hard way. That's the only way she's going to speak." I was still trying to understand what he meant by "the hard way" when he took three long strides towards me. Before I knew what he wanted to do, I felt a painful sting on my cheek, and a shout escaped my lips at the same time. He had slapped me, very hard. "Are you going to speak up now, or do you want to keep stalling?!" he shouted right into my ear. I tried to control the urge to cover my nose from his horrible breath.

Hard. "You like that, don't you, Em? You like it when I'm fucking you rough. Do you want me to smack your ass, Barbie?" He didn't wait for my answer when he smacked my ass, making me clench him hard. He grunted sexily and kept on pumping me harder and faster.

“You slapped her because she exists and isn’t afraid of you.” Kenzie crossed her arms. “She’s a kid, Jaxon.” “She’s seventeen.” “A junior.” “And you’re acting like a child in the middle of a parking lot,” he snapped. “Grow up.” Kenzie’s face flushed deep red. “I loved you.” He paused, just for a beat. “You loved being seen with me. That’s not the same thing.” Harper turned then, jaw tight, voice calm. “For the record, if you ever hit me again, I will press charges. I’m not scared of you. You can run your mouth all you want, but the second you get physical again? You’ll regret it.”

The hit landed across his shoulder, knocking him back a step, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. Victor’s lips twisted into a smile, his fingers curling into fists. “You’re still trying to fight me? After everything happened?” He took another step forward. “You think you can save yourself by hitting me with a stick? I’ll break you, so that you can never stand against me.”

“The question should be, are you leaving here alive after killing my men?” I looked at the lady closely, trying to recall who she was, but I had no memory of her. “Your men?” I asked. “You don’t get to ask me questions,” she said, her legs moving to a seat opposite mine. “Why am I here?” I asked, forgetting she had told me not to ask her questions. A hard slap landed on my face, the type that made me see stars. “You don’t get to ask me questions,” she yelled, her voice thundering in the whole building, making everyone silent. Even her men felt the impact of the slap on my face.