Chapter 1 - The Cup He Threw on Purpose
The coffee hit Skylar’s face before she understood that Derek had lifted the mug.
One moment she was sitting at the small dining table in their Edgewater apartment, dressed for a client meeting in a cream satin blouse, trying to keep her voice calm. The next, boiling coffee splashed across her left cheek, ran down her neck, and soaked into the fabric over her collarbone.
For two seconds, she could not scream. Pain swallowed sound before it let her make any.
Then the chair crashed backward, and Skylar stumbled to the sink. Her hands shook so badly she fumbled with the handle twice before cold water burst from the faucet. She bent over it, pressing trembling fingers near her skin but not directly against it, terrified of making the damage worse.
Derek did not move.
He stood near the table with his phone still in one hand, breathing hard but looking almost satisfied, as if the violence had restored an order she had disturbed by saying no.
“See what you made me do,” he said.
That sentence made the room colder than the water running over her face.
His sister Suzanne had texted that morning. One of her payments had been declined, and Derek had announced that Skylar would give Suzanne her bank card for the afternoon. Skylar refused because Suzanne had already borrowed money three times and never returned a dollar.
Derek said he was not asking.
Skylar said she was not negotiating.
That was when the mug left his hand.
Now he stood watching her burn and spoke like she had inconvenienced him.
“My sister’s coming over this afternoon,” he said. “You’ll give her your bank card, your handbags, and anything else she wants. If not, pack your junk and get out.”
Skylar lifted her eyes to the kitchen window. Her reflection looked blurred by tears and steam, but something inside it finally became clear.
May you like
Derek was not losing control.
He believed control belonged to him.
