– Livana –
It felt damn good to finally slap her. Hard. She flew back so fast I could hear the thud. They had packed up her bags and cleared almost everything in her room—and that's when they discovered the bottles: toxic chemicals, labeled and sealed. At least, that's what I heard. Damon said he secured them himself. She'd been storing poison in her bedroom, probably for her experiments. I also wonder if she's the one who made me blind. I don't have concrete proof, but if I do, I'll make sure to take her to hell.
Now, with my husband's hand injured, he won't be able to please me the way he should. No more rubbing lotion on my back, or smoothing sunscreen over my face. Not for now, at least.
I sighed and tilted my head toward Damon. He was on the phone, speaking fluent Italian, his voice low and smooth. He hadn't touched me since the injury. The doctor checked his hand twice, said it was a mild chemical burn and recommended an ointment.
