Ivy's POV
The slap rang out like a gunshot the moment he raised his hand towards me.
John’s head snapped to the side, his greasy hair whipping across his face.
The room stayed deathly silent.
For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. His lip quivered, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he processed what had just happened.
I tilted my head, my smile sharpening. “What’s wrong, Johnny?” I cooed. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
His jaw clenched, and he slowly turned back to me, a flicker of rage behind his bloodshot eyes. “I—”
Slap!
This time, I felt the sting ripple up my arm, but I didn’t care.
John reeled back again, stumbling against the officers holding him. His confidence cracked. I saw the hesitation bloom, the bravado slipping.
My voice dropped, low and venomous. “You always wanted me to play along, right? Well, I’m playing now.”
His lips trembled.