The words spilled out of her in a desperate, broken rush. She sank to her knees on the polished hardwood, her head bowed, her hands clutching at the fabric of his trousers.
"I'm sorry, Victor. I'm so sorry. Please, please don't be angry. I won't leave again. I promise. I'll never leave you again."
She could feel him watching her, his presence looming over her like a mountain. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until she felt his hands settle on her shoulders. He didn't pull her up immediately. He just held her there, his grip firm and unyielding.
"Look at me, Libby."
His voice was quiet, devoid of the anger she had expected. It was worse. It was calm—a terrifying, controlled calm that made her breath hitch.
He hooked his fingers under her chin and forced her head up.
His
