A Splash of Colour
His gaze locked on mine—cold, unreadable, but intense.
“For what?” I snapped, my voice raised, cracking slightly.
He exhaled harshly, raking a hand through his jet-black hair—messy from the breeze and tension.
“Who paid you?” he asked in a low voice. “Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into—?”
Paid me?
My blood ran cold. Did he really just…?
“How dare you insult me!” My hand flew before I could stop it. The loud slap echoed, and for a moment, he stood stunned, his grip on my arm loosening.