---- Vincent's gaze fell on me, as cold as if he were inspecting an object. "You may." Those two words were a death sentence. My blood ran cold. "No..." my voice trembled as I stared at him in disbelief. "Vincent, you know I'm allergic to alcohol!" He finally met my eyes, his own a void of emotion. "I know." His voice was terrifyingly calm. "A rash, Isabella. Nothing more. Everyone pays the price for their actions. And believe me-I've already been merciful." Just... a rash? He didn't know.
After the attack from his rival, after the miscarriage and the blood loss... My body was broken. ---- The doctor had warned me. My allergic reactions had become life-threatening. The next one could send me into anaphylactic shock and kill me. But he didn't know. And he didn't care to know. "Don't worry, Don. We'll make sure she learns her lesson!" The fat man and his crew closed in. They grabbed my jaw and forced my mouth open. "you monster!
Vincent Santoro, you're a fucking monster!" The dark figure in the doorway paused for a fraction of a second, then vanished into the night without a backward glance. At that moment, I wished the wound on my head had been fatal, so I wouldn't have to endure this hellish humiliation. The burning whiskey was forced down my throat, ---- making me choke and cough violently. It spilled from the corners of my mouth, soaking my ruined dress and mixing with the blood on the floor.
A fire spread from my throat through my whole body. My skin started to itch uncontrollably as horrifying red welts erupted across it. But this time, it wasn't just a rash. My throat... was closing. Icouldn't breathe. "Ugh... help..." I clawed uselessly at my own throat, making a raw, inhuman wheezing sound. The fat man's smirk froze. "Fuck! She... wasn't she just supposed to get a rash? Why does she look like she's dying?!" Another of his men pointed at my face and screamed, "Her lips are blue!
That's anaphylactic shock! That shit is fatal!"