Chapter 10 - The First CutThe evening breeze was crisp, carrying the unmistakable scent of autumn through the open balcony doors. I walked back inside my penthouse, stepping across gleaming hardwood floors that belonged entirely to me.
On the kitchen island sat a brand-new set of professional-grade German kitchen knives, gleaming under the recessed lighting in their polished wooden block. I reached out, my fingers brushing against the cold, steel handle of the chef's knife.
I pulled it free, testing the edge with the pad of my thumb. It was razor-sharp—flawless, precise, and entirely unyielding.
I smiled to myself in the reflection of the stainless-steel refrigerator.
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Some women spend their lives waiting to be chosen. Me? I learned how to hold the blade.
And for the first time in my life, I was cutting exactly what I wanted.
