IElena's POV
I slid into the driver's seat, heart still pounding like it hadn't realized the fight was over. My palms trembled against the leather steering wheel, not from fear but from the lingering shock of it all.
The concierge had said something as I rushed out. Maybe a question. Maybe just noise. I couldn't answer. I hadn't even dared to look at them. My pride was bleeding just as much as my face.
I exhaled and leaned back, letting my head hit the seat. Slowly, I raised a hand to my cheek. The skin there stung, tender, swelling slightly beneath my fingers.
"She's stronger than she looks," I muttered to no one.
My reflection in the rearview mirror stared back, smudged lipstick, tousled hair, a forming bruise that threatened to ruin the symmetry of my face.
"She almost wrecked my perfectly structured face," I said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the slow burn of humiliation.
My eyes flicked back to the hotel doors. Still quiet. Still closed.
Good.
