Natasha looked like a crocodile when she was hugging the floor. Her expression was that of pure confusion and shock.

When was the last time her father slapped her? She didn’t remember it. He probably never slapped her in the past. Yet now, he slapped her like he was slapping an annoying slut chasing men on the roadside.

“Fredrick!” Diana got up from the couch. “Are you trying to kill her?”

“I wasn’t,” Fredrick turned away. “But if she stays before my eyes for another minute, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.”

“I’ll take her away,” Diana assured him and quickly helped Natasha to get back to her feet.

“Mom, I really didn’t call Russell to the rooftop,” Natasha pitifully told her mother, “I swear.”

“Even if your dad doesn’t believe you, I believe you, Natasha.”

Diana took her out of the room and made her sit in the living room on the first floor. “Just wait here for a moment, and don’t say a word to anyone. I’ll come back and tell you why we’re here.” Saying that she quickly