I glared at him fierce and unbreaking through a fresh welling of hot tears, my cheeks throbbing raw and swollen from his repeated slaps, emerald eyes blazing pure hate as snot, blood, and drool mixed in a salty, sticky mess dripping down my chin onto my soaked shirt.
Viktor threw his head back in a mocking, guttural laugh—deep and cruel, the sound bouncing off the cold stone walls like shattering glass, his broad shoulders shaking with fake amusement.
"What? Why are you crying now, my little broken flower?" He leaned in invasively close, his sour breath hot and rank against my face, flecks of spit hitting my skin.
Was this man drinking before he came here?
"You look utterly helpless there, all tied up and dripping—truly pathetic, like a kicked puppy no one wants."
