Roxana's eyes snapped open.
For a moment, she just sat there. Wine dripped down her face, soaking into her shirt, running down her neck and pooling in places that made the fabric cling to her skin.
Then her brain caught up.
Her leg kicked the table. Not a gentle push. A full-force strike that sent the heavy wooden piece flying across the room.
CRASH!
It smashed into the wall and splintered into pieces.
She shot to her feet, stumbling slightly—still drunk, but very much awake now.
"How DARE you, motherfucker!"
Jax stood his ground, watching her with the same cold expression he'd worn when he threw the wine.
Roxana wiped her face with her sleeve, smearing wine and ruined makeup everywhere. Her black eyes burned with fury.
"Who the hell do you think you are?!"
"I'm the professor who lives here. The one whose wine you were drinking. The one whose servant you were ordering around." His voice was ice. "Now answer my question. Who. Are. You."
