It was as if Evelyn Morgan's face was crawling with some disgusting virus.
The gesture wasn't physically harmful, but it was incredibly insulting.
Evelyn Morgan had always been arrogant and haughty, accustomed to getting her way. She had never been slapped in her entire life, let alone subjected to such utter humiliation.
She snapped.
Her face twisted in a furious snarl as she grabbed the nearest vase and hurled it at Holly Sinclair's head.
Holly Sinclair instinctively stumbled back.
But she accidentally stepped on the hem of her dress.
She teetered on the verge of falling, just as the vase was about to crack her skull open.
A flicker of triumphant glee lit up Evelyn Morgan's eyes. 'Even if I kill Holly Sinclair today,' she thought, 'the bitch will have brought it on herself.'
'Holly Sinclair slapped me first. This is just self-defense!'
'Even if I'm held responsible, it would be manslaughter at worst.'
