He Punished Me For Her

Chapter 3

The Velvet Room, on the south side.

The storefront was gaudy as hell, the air thick with cigar smoke, hard liquor, and a nauseating, cloying sweetness—the stench of countless perfumes stewed together with sweat.

I was shoved down an endless corridor into the innermost VIP room.

The private suite was lit by a dim, ghostly glow. Five men sprawled across the sofas, the kind who haunted places like this in search of new thrills. Their eyes held undisguised malice and anticipation.

"Well, well. Mr. Prescott really sent us his own wife. She may not be a young woman, but look at that skin... First-class merchandise."

The guy with the buzz cut up front set down his glass, rubbing his hands together with a smile that made my skin crawl.

The tattooed man beside him looked uneasy. "Boss, Mr. Prescott told us to 'put on a show' for the people outside. Are we really going through with it?"

The guy with the buzz cut spat a thick loogie at my feet.

"What are you scared of? Mr. Prescott gave the order himself. Said this b***h crossed a line and was ours to use. As long as she's still breathing, anything goes. How often do men like us get a taste of a rich man's wife? It'd be worth dying for."

I huddled in the corner, shaking like a leaf.

I remembered that night of pouring rain, when Adrian had nine thugs drag me into an abandoned factory so Sabrina could see what the "dark side of society" looked like.

That time, he'd also said it was just "for show."

But those hands touched everywhere—where they should, and where they shouldn't.

"Help..."

With a harsh rip, the guy with the buzz cut tore open my collar.

"Scream! Scream your lungs out!" he shrieked, voice cracking with excitement. "Miss Hale outside is straining to hear every sound you're making!"

*****

Outside in the corridor, Adrian stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression dark enough to chill the air.

When the first scream came from the room, he instinctively stepped forward.

"That's about enough. Bring her out..."

"We've barely even started."

Sabrina slouched against the corridor wall covered in golden wallpaper, arms crossed, rolling her eyes.

"Adrian, don't tell me you're already feeling sorry for her? That screaming sounds like a cat in heat. Are you sure Evelyn isn't enjoying herself in there?

"These trophy wives know best how to put on a show. Who knows, she might be having the time of her life right now. After all, you're like a block of wood in bed. With so many strong men here all at once, her mouth might be saying no, but who knows how thrilled she really is inside.

"Tsk, listening to those sounds, even I want to go in and give it a try..."

"Sabrina Hale, shut the f**k up!"

But he gritted his teeth and forced back that flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

Sabrina shrugged.

"Didn't you say you'd broaden my horizons? This barely counts as a lesson."

Adrian clenched his fist, then suddenly looked up and roared into the VIP room.

"What are you waiting for? Put some muscle into it!"

After shouting, he lowered his voice, muttering to himself, "I gave clear instructions. They won't actually hurt her. Definitely not."

His shout sent the room into a frenzy.

I was pinned hard to the carpet, my temple striking the edge of the marble coffee table, flashes of white exploding behind my eyes.

One man grabbed my hair and yanked my head back; another pinned my legs. Filthy curses spewed into my ears.

"Your skin's silky smooth, Mrs. Prescott."

I opened my mouth and bit down, my mouth filling with a metallic taste.

The man I had bitten spat a curse and slapped me so hard my ears rang.

"b***h, you dare bite!"

Another man seized my hair and smashed my head against the coffee table.

My vision kept going black.

Just then, a cry exploded from beyond the door.

"Mom...!"