"Ahhh!" Isabella let out an agonizing scream. She pointed a trembling finger at Barnaby. "Get out! I don't know you! Agnes is in prison! She's gone, and so is your daughter! You're never getting another cent. Now get the hell out before I call the police!"
Barnaby flinched at her outburst, but the mention of prison turned his face purple with rage. He lunged forward, grabbing her by the hair, and delivered a vicious slap across her cheek. "Shut your mouth, you little brat!"
The blow left her ears ringing. He slammed her against the grimy wall. "What did you say? Agnes got locked up? The hell happened?"
Isabella had never been physically assaulted. Even when the Lancasters banished her, the bodyguards had merely escorted her out. Crying in pain, she tried to push him away. "You psycho! Let me go! If my brother finds out, he'll kill you!"
"I'm your father!" Barnaby roared, his alcohol-laced breath suffocating her. "Agnes is my wife, and you're my flesh and blood. Since she's locked up, you're my meal ticket now. If you don't pay up, I'll march straight to the Lancasters and tell the whole world the truth." He eyed her greedily. "You're a rich heiress, right? Empty your pockets!"
He yanked her designer bag from her grasp.
"Stop! That's mine!" she sobbed, clawing at him.
"Everything you own is mine," he sneered, tossing her to the floor.
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