Slap Her Back

Slap Her Back
Jamal's Company

Queenie sat on the luxurious leather sofa in the spacious office, her eyes fixed on the large television screen mounted on the wall. The news was playing continuously, and her face seemed to appear on every channel she switched to. The headlines were bold and attention-grabbing, all centered around the same shocking story - her marriage to Jamal Devereaux.

Her pictures were displayed on almost all news stations, each one analyzing different aspects of their sudden union. Some showed her walking beside Jamal outside the courthouse, others captured their brief moment with the reporters earlier that morning. In every image, she looked elegant but slightly overwhelmed, like someone who was still adjusting to being thrust into the spotlight.

"I guess that's how it feels for someone to be popular," she muttered to herself, a mix of amazement and discomfort in her voice.

The attention was unlike anything she had ever experienced. For ten years, she had lived in the shadows, invisible to most of the world. Now, suddenly, everyone wanted to know who she was, where she had come from, and how she had managed to capture the attention of one of the city's most eligible bachelors.

She was the only one in the office at the moment. The space felt enormous when she was alone - all polished wood, floor-to-ceiling windows, and expensive artwork that probably cost more than most people made in a year. Jamal had left for a business meeting about an hour ago, leaving her alone with nothing but her thoughts and the constant stream of news coverage about their marriage.

The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the low murmur of voices from the television and the distant sounds of the city far below. She found herself feeling strangely vulnerable in this place that represented so much power and influence.

A knock came on the door, sharp and authoritative in the quiet office.

"Come in," she called out, expecting to see one of Jamal's assistants or perhaps a secretary with some paperwork.

The office door opened slowly, and Georgina stepped into the room with the kind of confident stride that suggested she belonged there. She was dressed impeccably, as always, her appearance carefully crafted to project wealth and status.

Queenie turned, and her blood ran cold as her eyes met the last person she had expected to see in this place. The shock hit her like a physical blow, and for a moment, she felt like she was back in that house, powerless and at Georgina's mercy.

"Look who we have here," Georgina muttered, her voice dripping with a mixture of disdain and satisfaction as she slowly stepped closer. There was something predatory in the way she moved, like a cat that had finally cornered its prey.

The sight of Georgina in Jamal's office felt like a violation, like two worlds that should never have intersected were suddenly colliding in the most uncomfortable way possible.

"What are you doing here?" Queenie asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the anxiety that was building in her chest.

"You've lacked manners so much that you can't even offer me a greeting," Georgina said, coming to stand directly in front of her. Her posture was intimidating, designed to make Queenie feel small and insignificant.

But something had changed in Queenie since that night she had signed the marriage certificate. The scared, broken woman who had been thrown out of the Chen household was still there, but she was buried beneath layers of newfound strength and determination.

"You don't like it when I call you Auntie or Mother, so I'm sure you don't need my greetings. Besides, you don't deserve it any longer," Queenie said boldly, her voice carrying a confidence that surprised even her.

Georgina looked at her with genuine surprise, her eyebrows raising slightly at the unexpected display of backbone. This wasn't the meek, submissive girl she remembered. Something fundamental had shifted, and it was immediately apparent.

"I see you've become bold, right? You've lacked manners," Georgina said, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "Just because you married Jamal doesn't mean I can't drag you back home."

The threat hung in the air between them, but for the first time in years, Queenie didn't feel the familiar surge of fear that Georgina's words usually inspired.

"Do it if you have the nerves," Queenie said with a smirk, the expression foreign on her face but somehow perfectly natural.

The smirk was like a red flag to Georgina, who had never seen this side of Queenie before. The girl who had once cowered at her slightest displeasure was now challenging her directly, and it was infuriating.

"Don't forget, Queenie, you're a criminal. What do you think Jamal will do when he finds out that you tried to poison your sister? Or if the public finds out that you did such an act, do you think you'll still be standing here?" Georgina asked, playing what she believed was her trump card.

The accusation was delivered with the kind of casual cruelty that Georgina had perfected over the years. She expected to see Queenie crumble, to watch the fear return to her eyes as she remembered her vulnerable position.

"You and I know that the poison was just a frame-up. It had absolutely nothing to do with me," Queenie said, her voice steady and unwavering.

There was something almost liberating about finally saying the words out loud, about refusing to accept the blame for something she had never done.

Georgina chuckled, the sound cold and dismissive. "Do you think people would believe such nonsense?"

"I'll give you a good option, Queenie," she continued, her voice taking on the tone of someone offering a generous deal. "Come back with me now and stop all this silly news about getting married, and I'll forget about anything that happened with the poison and take you back in."

The offer was delivered like a favor, as if Georgina was being magnanimous by allowing Queenie to return to her previous life of servitude and abuse.

"What if I refuse?" Queenie asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

"Then I'll tell the whole world the kind of person you are," Georgina said, the threat clear and unmistakable.

"I can't come back with you," Queenie said simply, and there was something final in her voice that hadn't been there before.

Georgina chuckled again, but this time there was less amusement and more frustration in the sound. "You must be feeling on top of the world now that you're Mrs. Devereaux, but I can assure you, you mean absolutely nothing."

The words were designed to cut deep, to remind Queenie of her place in the social hierarchy that Georgina held so dear.

"I'm sure you're also after the same title - Mrs. Devereaux. That's why you desperately want me to come back with you," Queenie said, and there was something almost knowing in her voice.

The observation hit closer to home than Georgina had expected, and her carefully maintained composure cracked for just a moment.

Before Queenie could react, Georgina's hand flew across her face in a heavy slap that echoed through the office. The force of it was shocking, and Queenie's cheek immediately began to burn with pain.

"How dare you speak to me in that manner!" Georgina snapped, her mask of civilized behavior finally slipping completely.

Queenie opened her mouth to respond, her own anger rising to match Georgina's, but before she could speak, a familiar voice cut through the tension in the room.

"What's happening here?" Jamal asked, his voice calm but carrying an underlying edge that suggested he had seen more than Georgina realized.

Georgina flinched slightly at his voice, the sound making her realize that she had been caught in a moment of complete loss of control. She turned around quickly, her face immediately transforming as she put on her usual fake smile - the practiced expression of someone who had spent years perfecting the art of social manipulation.

"Oh, President Jamal, you're here! I was just congratulating her about your marriage," Georgina said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Queenie scoffed inwardly at how easily the lie rolled off Georgina's tongue. Even after being caught in such a compromising position, she was still trying to manipulate the situation to her advantage.

Jamal nodded slowly, his dark eyes taking in the scene before him. There was something calculating in his expression, like he was processing information and coming to conclusions that others might miss.

He walked closer to them, his movements deliberate and controlled. The office seemed to grow smaller with his presence, the air becoming charged with an energy that neither woman had expected.

"Slap her back," he said simply, his voice calm and matter-of-fact.

Georgina looked at him with genuine confusion, her mouth falling open slightly as she tried to process what she had just heard. This wasn't the response she had anticipated.

"Didn't you hear what I said, Queenie? I said slap her back," Jamal repeated, his voice remaining perfectly calm despite the shocking nature of his instruction.

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and suddenly the power dynamic in the room shifted completely.