Madison collapsed back against the pillows, her chest heaving, her body trembling from the sheer exhaustion of her failed attempt. The silence of the room felt heavy, pregnant with the impending doom of the punishment she had feared since the moment he demanded she strip.
"Hah... hah... hah... damn it..."
"Mike... please," she started, her voice trembling, her eyes searching his for a shred of the mercy she so desperately craved.
She tried to muster a sliver of her old, commanding persona, the one that managed directors and producers. "Let's be rational about the situation!"
"The stress... the pressure of the camera... it wasn't natural." Madison tried her best to make a sad expression. "Surely you can see that? If you just give me a few more minutes, or if we—"
"Rational!?" Mike interrupted, his laugh cutting her off like a whip.
He leaned over her, his massive frame blotting out the light, making her feel tiny and insignificant. "You want to talk about FUCKING logic now?!"
