Chapter 3
862words
The moment the door opened, he seized my wrist and dragged me out.
It was a mansion perched on a cliff's edge.
Isolated. Imposing.
Just like its owner.
But I was in no mood to admire the view.
One heel had broken off in the struggle, and my bare foot touched the cold marble steps, sending a biting chill straight to my bones.
I didn't make a sound.
Five years in hell had taught me one thing: crying out in pain was pointless—it only invited worse treatment.
"Get in."
He shoved me into the cavernous living room.
I stumbled forward, barely catching myself on the edge of a sofa.
I lifted my chin and stared him down.
"So this is where you wanted to bring me. What now? Rape me? Kill me?"
My voice was eerily calm, so detached I barely recognized it.
What was there to fear when you're already a walking corpse?
Dominic's fingers, which had been unbuttoning his cuff, froze mid-motion.
He turned, his expression darkening dangerously.
He seemed shocked that the girl who once cried at the slightest hurt now stared at him with such dead eyes.
"Rape?"
He sneered, stalking toward me step by step.
Until my back hit the cold wall, leaving me nowhere to retreat.
"Scarlett, have you forgotten? I paid for you."
He whispered against my ear, each word dripping with contempt.
"Besides, how could I touch a body like yours—used by God knows how many men—without having it thoroughly cleaned first?"
He suddenly seized my arm and dragged me toward the bathroom.
"Dominic! Let go of me!"
Despite my struggles, the difference in our strength made me helpless as he threw me into the shower stall.
Ice-cold water cascaded down on me.
I gasped and shivered violently, but he showed no mercy.
"Clean yourself thoroughly!" he snarled. "Wash off that disgusting stench of other men that makes me want to vomit!"
He grabbed my already torn dress and ripped it further.
With a harsh tearing sound.
The fabric gave way completely.
I stood naked under the harsh bathroom lights.
I instinctively tried to cover myself.
Not wanting him to see the wounds.
The fresh bruises Brad had left last night across my ribs and waist.
Old scars layered with fresh wounds, like ugly centipedes crawling across skin I once took pride in.
Dominic suddenly froze.
A deathly silence fell.
The water continued to pound down noisily.
He stared at the purple-blue bruises on my abdomen, his pupils dilating in shock.
For a moment, I thought he understood.
I thought he might ask if I was in pain.
But I'd forgotten.
In his eyes, I was just a whore who'd do anything for money.
Dominic's expression shifted from shock to even deeper disgust and fury.
"So this is your life with Brad?"
His voice cut like a blade.
"Looks like you two have quite the arrangement."
"BDSM? Rough play? You're willing to let yourself be beaten black and blue to please your sugar daddy?"
My heart turned to solid ice.
So that's what he thought of me. That I'd sunk this low.
I didn't bother explaining.
What was the point?
Tell him I was being abused? To beg for his sympathy?
Not a chance.
I pushed my soaking wet hair behind my ear.
Straightened my spine.
Standing naked and defiant before him.
With a bitter, mocking smile.
"That's right. As long as the price is right, I'll do anything."
"Mr. Knight, isn't that what you've always believed about me?"
Dominic's eyes flashed with rage.
My words had struck a nerve.
"Fine. Have it your way."
He snatched a towel and threw it at me.
"Since you're so dedicated to your profession, go wait for me on the bed."
…
The bedroom was dimly lit.
I perched on the edge of the bed wrapped in a towel, like a condemned prisoner awaiting execution.
But I wasn't trembling anymore.
The worst had already happened.
Physical pain? I was used to that by now.
As long as I survived.
As long as I could save my sister...
Dominic entered the room.
He'd changed into a bathrobe, the half-open collar revealing his muscular chest.
But he didn't immediately pounce.
He stood at the foot of the bed and lit a cigarette.
Through the swirling smoke, his gaze was so complex I couldn't decipher it.
As if he wanted to strangle me.
Yet also as if he wanted to burn down the entire world.
Suddenly, a shrill ringtone shattered the silence.
My phone.
That specific ringtone... it was Brad.
I leaped from the bed as if electrocuted, lunging for my phone without hesitation.
Dominic's eyes narrowed dangerously.
But I couldn't worry about that now.
Brad never called at this hour.
Unless... something had happened to my sister.
I answered with trembling hands.
"Hello?"
"Scarlett! My darling wife!"
Brad's sleazy, frantic voice came through, casino noise blaring in the background.
"That high roller looked loaded! Since you went with him, you must've scored big, right?"
"Listen up—if you don't wire me five million right now, I'm yanking your sister's oxygen tube! Don't think I won't do it!"
