He hurt her so much, without even trying, without needing to know anything about her. He’d simply spoken her name and reduced her to property, his whims locking an iron chain around her throat.
“Do you talk to them, tell them all about the tragic life you’ve had? Or are you just in and out, quick as you can?” she asked, her voice lilting with the taunt.
His eyes flashed.
“Want me to show you?” His voice was sharp and cold as a splinter of ice.
She met his eyes and raised her chin. “You won’t.”
His expression hardened. She knew that she could goad him if she kept going.
She’d finally get it over with, stop enduring Crowther and Ilva’s search for signs that she’d been ravished or ravaged. Stop lying awake at night, cold with dread, wondering when it would finally happen. She was sick o
