He sneers at me. “Your loss.”
My loss? I'm the heiress to a multimillion empire and I'm beautiful, it wouldn't be my loss in a million years.
I just laugh at his words and begin to walk away, that is until the music dies down and I hear him mumble. “Stupid cunt.”
Oh, no. Big mistake.
I turn around slowly and tilt my head to the side, venom in my eyes. “What did you just call me?”
Men like to call women names when they feel rejected and inferior—which they usually are. The only problem with that is they don't expect women to fight back, but little does Mr Ken-doll know that times are changing. In fact, they've always been changed for me; I eat boys like him for breakfast. All I have to do is snap my fingers and I could ruin his whole life.
He gets in my face and says, “I called you a stupid, fucking cunt—”
He doesn't get to finish his sentence because a fist knocks him clean on his ass. He groans out loudly and clutches his nose, which is bleeding profusely.
No one at the party even noticed; they are all too busy dancing or engrossed in fights of their own.
I gasp in shock, because I expected that to be my hand. I didn't expect to see Adaline in front of me, groaning at the pain in her fist, but chuckling at the same time.
What. The. Heck.
Adaline just punched ken doll and knocked him on his ass. This guy is six-foot at least and he also looks like he works out a fair bit, but she punched him with such mesmerizing ease.
“Did your father not teach you how to speak to women with respect?” she questions with a cruel laugh then adds, “Stupid prick.”
“Bitch!” he screeches back at her and tries to get back up.
She just scoffs at him, but me? Well, I use as much momentum as I can and kick him in between his legs—like it's a reflex. How dare he call her a bitch?
“Ah!” he groans out, his free hand moving towards his pathetic excuse of a dick. “You bitches!”
This is a grown man, wailing on the floor of a party as everyone else is ignoring him dancing and two girls are standing over his body. This must be a very low point in his life.
Adaline chuckles darkly and I look at her. There's no reason for her to look so attractive right now as she bites her lip in pain, her green eyes holding what I can only assume to be as satisfaction. She's looking at me like she's proud, and I find myself biting my lip in response, mirroring her behaviour.
Damn! It just got so much hotter in here.
Chapter NINETEEN
A d a l i n e
Ihave punched people before, for many different reasons. Usually, I'm careful, swift, and primarily collected. However, this time I was reckless; red, hot, burning fury enveloped my body and now I'm paying the price. By price I mean the ice pack that I'm currently holding against my swollen fist.
I should regret hitting that blonde prick because of the pain, but I don't…not even for a second.
Who does he think he is calling Juliette a cunt? He's lucky I didn't break his legs for the way he spoke to her.
I hate Juliette from the bottom of my heart, but that doesn't give him a free pass to talk to her like that. No one gets to talk to her like that.
Besides me.
Speaking of Juliette, she's shooting deathly glares my way right now. After she kicked blondie in the balls—which shouldn't have been attractive, but it was—she got him removed from the party and practically dragged me to the upstairs bathroom with an ice pack.
“I was perfectly capable of handling him myself,” Juliette says to me annoyed, but her eyes don't hold the same eerie annoyance her tone does. It's almost as if she is pretending to be angrier than she actually is.
“I know,” I shrug at her words, trying to conceal my grin, “I was just in the mood for a fight today.”
This is completely true. Ever since I walked into the party and saw Juliette, it was as if my whole body had been submerged in ice, cold water that was choking me.
