Fourty-Eight

GYPSY'S POV

“I knew you wouldn't fail the Indian, Gypsy. You have too much of a good heart.”

I glare hard at the man I hate more than anything else in the world as his guards drag me into his study room.

Falcon has his disgusting cynical smile on his face, and all I want to do is wipe it away with my fist by slamming it against his mouth.

Oh God I hate him.

“Knees, Gypsy. On your knees.” He commands, walking towards me.

I only glare back at him. No way I'm going back to worshipping him like some dog.

He takes me by surprise by slamming the back of his hand against my face, tossing my head violently to the side.

“I said on your knees, Gypsy. Don't make me repeat myself.” The smile stays intact on his face despite the warning in his voice.

I slowly look back at him, my cheek burning, my whole body burning with a useless rage. Conceding, I drop down to my knees in front of him just the way he wants it.

I'll gladly do it, if only to make him let Mrs. Mehra leave.

“You didn't have to brin