I swallowed hard and clutched my purse to my belly.
What the actual fuck?
“Both of you—face away,” he snapped.
They obeyed instantly, turning like a pair of puppets.
God. He was a fucking psychopath. Or a sociopath. Whatever label fit—he was completely off his head.
“And you,” he said, pointing directly at me.“If you don’t want things to get worse for Her Glow—and your family—I suggest you learn how to obey me.”
Did he just—?
Obey?
This motherfucker.
“Mr Prothero,” I said evenly, easing my hand into my purse until my fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the atomiser,“you’re clearly used to dealing with a certain type of people.”
I met his stare, dragging my gaze over him slowly as the metal cap slid free beneath my thumb.
“My people have survived colonisation. Slavery. Ethnic cleansing. Chemical warfare. Famine.”
My voice didn’t shake.“You can do whatever the fuck you want—but let me be very clear. I will never fucking obey someone like you. Because we are survivors.”
For the first time since he’d sat down, his composure cracked.
His eyes bulged, cartoonish with shock.
That was all I needed.
I lifted the pepper spray and aimed straight for his face.
His roar was immediate—animal, furious—barking orders as his guards rushed toward him.
I was already moving.
I didn’t look back.
I ran.
Down the street, through the press of bodies, into the nearest Tube station—trembling, lungs burning, heart hammering against my ribs.
And then—slowly—something inside me steadied.
Not relief.
Resolve.
Whatever the hell had just happened…
I knew one thing for certain.
I had just made a very dangerous enemy.
The journey home passed in a blur. I texted Anji to say I wouldn’t be back today. It wasn’t until I was home—until I was in my father’s arms—that the dam finally burst.
He held me without a word until the tears ran dry, and then I told him everything.
