SERENA'S POV
“Hundred and one”
“Hundred and two.”
“Hundred and three…” I silently counted the number of lashes Wayne gave the man tied to the iron chair.
Blood splattered from his face and some even landed on my lips.
Out of shock, I paid less attention to the blood clot on my lips and more to the blood oozing out of the man's face.
Wayne had hit him across his face and his nose and lips broke, splattering blood everywhere.
The man has remained mute for the past thirty minutes that we've been here.
Wayne has not said a word to me, just as his victim has chosen to stay silent.
His eyes had grown dark over time and with every lash he gave, I sensed the anger burning in him.
The loud clap of another lash landed on the man.
This time, one of the spikes on the whip entered t
