‘Mike asked me to come back, start again, put everything behind us, for our son’s sake. So, now, it’s your turn to tell me what you’re doing here and who you are. What the fuck are you doing letting yourself into my home?’

What? Zara was now fuming. ‘Mike’s wife? Don’t make me laugh. Mike wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire, so cut the crap.’

Jackie laughed. ‘Aw, no?’ She looked down at her bare legs. ‘He didn’t say that earlier when he was all over me, love! He was in seventh heaven, having my two hands ripping at his back, when he was fucking the life out of me. But I guess you can’t give him that feeling, can ya?’

Jackie had assumed too much. Zara wasn’t a woman to stand there and have a slanging match – far from it. Without taking her eyes off Jackie, Zara slid her hand into the pocket of her jacket and extracted a black glove.

Jackie laughed again. ‘You think that covers your ugly truth, do ya?’

As Jackie revelled in winding Zara up, she never expected it to be anything more than a verbal catfight.

Totally unprepared, Jackie watched the sorrowful expression on Zara’s face cruise to a half-smile; it was almost a smirk. Without any warning and like the swift movement of a bird’s wing, the gloved prosthetic hand came from nowhere, striking Jackie clean across the cheek and up under her nose. The clout instantly knocked Jackie off her feet and onto the floor. Yet this wasn’t a normal backhander; a very odd sensation caused Jackie to touch her face. To her horror, she could feel her cheek almost hanging off her face and the warm, wet, and sticky liquid trickling through her hands and down her wrists. It took a second before she realized that Zara had sliced her face wide open. Her eyes bulged in fear as she stared up at the woman’s ice-cold expression. Slipping and sliding on the marble floor, trying to get away from the demonic woman holding her hand up in a threatening stance, Jackie couldn’t breathe from disbelief. Cowering in fear, she begged Zara not to hurt her again.

‘Don’t fuck with me, Jackie, because there are things that I can do that would put the Devil to shame. Next time, I won’t be so forgiving. It’ll be your neck I’ll slice!’

Jackie was now gripping her loose cheek with both hands, trembling in complete horror. She daren’t look up, too afraid to lock eyes with the woman who she’d completely underestimated.