I assumed Hubert was just running his mouth. I was wrong. Fifteen minutes later, his bodyguards dragged me to the hospital entrance and forced me to my knees.
I tried to stand. Two massive guards pinned me down.
My kneecaps cracked against the concrete. The pain was sharp enough to steal my breath.
"Hubert said he wanted to see me," I ground out. "What the hell is this?"
One of the guards sneered. "The boss says you have zero manners. Seeing as you're the girl who got both her parents killed, and nobody ever taught you how to behave, he figured he'd teach you himself."
The words "got both her parents killed" hit me like a fist to the chest.
Of course. My parents died young. It was the deepest wound I carried, and he knew exactly where to press.
I knelt in the blazing sun for six full hours before Hubert finally granted me permission to enter the hospital room.
He noticed my cracked, bloodless lips. Not a flicker of pity crossed his eyes.
"Have you learned your lesson?" he asked, voice like ice.
My lips moved twice. I thought of the unsigned divorce papers and forced the words out. "I've learned my lesson."
Hubert scoffed. "Good. Now go apologize to Clarissa."