Cathy looked up at him with an unusually calm gaze: "Do I not have a third option?"
"No!" Oliver's answer was very straightforward, carrying an air of dominance that didn't allow for refusal. Now that things have come to this, his only choice was to push her.
"Fine, you don't have one, but I do!"
As she spoke, Cathy's hand that was hanging under the sofa already picked up the fruit knife she had dropped in fright. Taking advantage of the man's attention on her words, the knife was already pressed against her throat.
Oliver's eyes changed dramatically as the pressure on his body stiffened. His tense voice immediately spoke: "What do you mean?"
"Either give me Roy and the signed divorce agreement, or I die in front of you. Choose one of the two."
