Chapter 474

Calla's hand snaked into her purse, her fingers closing around the cool metal of the fruit knife. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she drew it out, her hand trembling.

As much as she hated Mercer, the thought of actually stabbing him filled her with terror.

He was so engrossed in tormenting her that he was oblivious to everything else. This was her chance.

With a flick of her wrist, she yanked the knife out.

His coat, thick and cashmere, would be difficult to penetrate. Her eyes darted to the open collar, to the glimpse of the sky-blue shirt beneath. It would have to do.

Gathering all her strength, Calla raised the knife. With a steely resolve, she plunged the blade toward his right shoulder!

The left, after all, was too close to his heart. She wanted to hurt him and teach him a lesson, but not kill him. She wasn't a murderer, and she certainly didn't want to spend the rest of her life behind bars. Her mind remained rational.

The sensation that followed was sickening.