Slap Forehead Novels & Stories

In place of silver chains, he would make the pack doctor give me a dose of the silver shot which manages to knock me out for a day or two. Never has it ever gotten to a point that I would bleed or have bruises because of a beating i got from him because he never lays his hands on me, besides today. Is that even called laying a hand on me? I mean technically he didn’t, he threw a stapler at me, I don’t know, I am still trying the process the events of today.

His balance faltered, but he curled his foot with mine got me landing on the ground with him. I immediately scrambled on his back and choked him with my forearm on his throat. Flesh met flesh and tingles shot up my arm making me suck in a breath. He took advantage of my distracted mind and smashed me back on the ground with his back on me. Grunting I tried to push him but he was as heavy as a pig.

His impeccable black suit spoke of his dominance within our elite family. Unbeknownst to me, Greg had been silently approaching me with a menacing stride. His simmering rage was palpable. "You little brat!" he snarled before I could flinch, his palm connected with my cheek. The force of the slap jolted my head sharply off to the side.

He wasn’t fazed by the slap; in fact, he seemed almost pleased that Alexei was still in the mood to get physical. Across the room, Mafalda wordlessly stared at her twins. Her gaze was unwavering, and if looks could speak, this one would’ve said far more than a slap ever could. It wasn’t the kind of stare that carried malice—it was far worse. It was the kind of stare that made the room seem suddenly smaller, the air thick with an unspoken challenge. Just when things couldn’t get worse, they did. The door flung open with an unceremonious bang, and Frederick Hale stormed in, his sharp shoes clicking against the tile floor like a countdown to impending disaster.

"Dragging around a broke nobody with zero respect — you'll never climb the ladder." Faye sidled up immediately, dripping with passive aggression: "Exactly, Mia. Linda is doing us a favor by teaching us. The slapping exercise was meant to knock the vulgarity and arrogance out of you! If you can't even handle that, how do you expect to marry into money?" I scoffed. "Slapping the vulgarity out? Sounds more like slapping the brain cells out." Linda's expression darkened. "Tough talk." She snapped her fingers, and the bodyguard behind her stepped forward.

When Salvatore 'Sally' Morelli's hand struck my face, I did not even register what had happened. A dull, heavy crack echoed through the room, and I stumbled as my head filled with a sharp, ringing buzz. My left cheek burned hot at first, then searing, like someone held a flame to my skin. I pressed my hand to my face and stared at him blankly. My boyfriend, the firstborn son of the Morelli family of New Yiz, the future heir to the Don, had just slapped me across the face in front of the entire family and our guests—all because I got into an argument with another woman.

The sound of the slap echoed like a whip through the vast, high-ceilinged room. My palm stung with a fierce, burning heat. I had put every single ounce of my remaining strength, my rage, and my agony into the blow. The force of the impact snapped Karlo’s head violently to the side. A few strands of his dark hair fell messily across his forehead, casting a shadow over his face.

I shut my screaming desires and smacked him hard in the face. *Slap* There goes nothing.

Slap! Greg’s face burned. He covered his cheek and stepped back in anger and embarrassment. “You slapped me!? Have you heard of Red Foundation…” Slap! The young man slapped him once more before he could finish. “Bullshit. I’ve heard of Red Foundation but I just don’t give a shit.” Slap! A third slap landed on Greg’s face. “Greg!” Faye and the others were worried. If Greg got hurt and they did nothing, he would surely come after them next.

I swallow hard, throat suddenly dry. “You’ve got some significant bruising along your back, hips, and shoulders from the slide. No breaks, though. You were wearing your helmet, which prevented anything more serious with your head. We ran scans. No signs of bleeding or swelling. Just a mild concussion and some memory fog.”