CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT THE TEPID JERK

JADE’S POV "Who is she?" She retorts, trying to distract his attention, but he doesn't fall for it. "I'll ask again: how did you get in here?" He seethes, and she arranges her hair behind her ear to look more presentable; it doesn't work. "The maid let me in," she says, looking away, and he steps closer. "Try again," he responds, fuming silently. She looks at me in disgust before she stares back at him and squirms under his intense gaze. She hesitates for a second before she explains, in an uncanny way, how she got in when the cleaner wasn't paying attention. "I only did so because you weren't answering my calls," she continues, and I shake my head in disbelief. I whip my head back and catch him staring in my direction, but he's not looking at me; instead, he's staring at my hands, which are a little bruised from the assault earlier on, and in a second, he's holding her by the throat and slamming her into the wall. "You touched her?" He asks, but it sounds more like a confirmatio