Chapter 4 - The Strike“Get out,” I demanded again, moving toward the telephone on the desk to call security.
Instead of leaving, Isabella lunged. She shoved me. Hard.
I lost my balance, my hip striking the sharp edge of the mahogany table. I gasped as a sharp pain ripped through my lower back. A crystal champagne glass, abandoned on the tabletop, was knocked loose and shattered into glittering shards near my feet. I threw my hands out to steady myself, trying to catch my breath. I expected her to back away in shock at what she had done.
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But Isabella didn’t stop. Her eyes went completely dead. She stepped forward with a sudden, vicious, unadulterated fury and drove the pointed, steel-reinforced toe of her designer heel directly into my side.
The blunt force of the blow folded me completely. I collapsed to the floor, my bare knees hitting the carpet hard, narrowly missing the broken glass. A hot, blinding pain tore across my abdomen, radiating outward like a shockwave. My first thought was not for my own body. It wasn’t about the stinging in my hip or my scraped knees. It was a singular, primal terror for my unborn son. I curled into a fetal position, screaming for help.
