YOLANDA
Music is softly playing on TV, and I am seated on top of Daniel, facing him as I nurse the bruises on his face. My father did good damage to him and now I am left with a big baby crying for me. We are back at the penthouse, and we did not say much to each other. I actually told him that I don't want to talk.
"Baby, easy. It hurts," He whines.
I press the cloth harder on his face, causing him more pain. He grabs my forearm and groans.
"Babe, come on, now. Your father has already done so much. Do you want to finish me off?"
"Maybe you deserve more than what you got, Daniel. You kept on provoking my father; what did you expect?" I ask, getting off him.
"Baby, I am sorry,"
"I don't want to hear that, Daniel! A lot was done and said today and nothing can change that, so th
