Celeste's POV.
The air was still damp, while the smell of dust and old wood still lingered in my nostrils.
My mouth wasn't tied, just my entire body. I whimpered in pain, slowly.
I sat there, thinking of ways to free myself from the cold, metal chair that had pain slicing through my wrists beneath the rough rope, while the chains on my ankles dragged through to the floor.
I looked at my dress - my nightwear. It was torn at the hem with stains of dirt and dried blood.
All the while, he stood there, and his eyes didn't leave me even once. He followed my every gaze as if trying to figure out what was going on inside my head.
It had been three days already.
He stood a few feet away from me, and for the first time, I looked beyond the hatred I had for him.
His suit was ironed to perfe
