Evelyn's POV
Even with the knock on the window, guess what?
Victor didn't stop.
His hands were relentless, his grip on my thigh tightening as if I were prey he'd been starving for. His other hand kept forcing my face toward his, with his breath hot and reeking of whiskey.
"Victor," I called, my voice trembling. "Victor, stop!"
But he didn't.
The desperation in his eyes terrified me. It wasn't love or passion — it was hunger, raw and selfish.
He was just acting like a hungry dog who had been starved all his life.
He always portrayed this perfect gentleman. I always knew him as the man who once held doors open and kissed my hand like a perfect gentleman.
But right now, it has vanished. What was left was someone who only saw me as something to be consumed.
My h
