"Forget hitting you. I could put you in the ground and there wouldn't be a damn thing you could do about it."
I narrowed my eyes, watching him close the distance between us.
He stopped one step away and looked down at me, savoring the angle.
A long, deliberate pause.
Then he bent slowly at the waist, seized my chin between his fingers, and tilted my face up. His eyes glittered with provocation.
"Duke Gilbert, you're pathetic."
"I called you a cuckold and you still can't accept it!"
Pathetic.
Cuckold.
His words echoed over and over in my ears, and the restaurant dissolved around me. I was back. Five years ago.
That day was my engagement banquet with Fay.
The ceremony had reached the cake-cutting when Toby stepped forward, cradling an ornate gift box in both hands.
The lid came off. Nestled inside was a cake, and perched on top of it, molded in vivid fondant, sat a bright green tortoise.
The thing was emerald from head to tail, disturbingly lifelike.
Two glossy black eyes stared straight at me, mocking me without a sound.
Laughter erupted around the room.
Every guest was pointing, whispering, sneering. Nobody even tried to hide it.
They were all waiting to see what I'd do. Waiting for the show.