"Who did this to you", he said. His voice was calm, but she knew him too well. There was a hurricane stirring inside him, and his grey eyes that usually shone with playfulness now shone with fury. All over the fact that she was sprawled on the sofa, beads of sweat clinging on her forehead and a waterfall of blood pouring from the gash on her stomach. She who was his worst enemy, the woman he hated more than Satan hated God.