Apache glared at Yylfordt, eyes narrowed, expression livid. She gritted her teeth at him, the bridge of her nose wrinkled in a scowl, clearly furious.

"You know that it was fucking for," she snapped, her fist still balled. "Cheap tart? Don't think nobody has told me what 'cmid' means, either. You carry on talkin' shit about me and you'll get the same again."

She didn't look like she was making idle or empty threats. Instead, she looked rather like she was daring him to say something else, just to give her the excuse she needed.