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He grins and for the first time since I walked in here, his eyes skirt me.

While I’m secretly having an anxiety attack, Victor ponders it for a moment, making it seem as though he’s taking the offer into consideration.

Victor glances at me.

“No way,” I say right on cue. “He’s disgusting, Victor. I don’t agree to this.”

Victor stands up and casually takes me by the elbow.

“You’ll do what I tell you to do,” he says.

I shake my head back and forth, looking between them, trying not to break character, but finding it more and more difficult to achieve.

I can do this, I tell myself as the loud pounding of my heart rises over my voice in my head. Victor won’t hurt me. In any way. I have to believe that.

Why doesn’t he just kill the pig now? I don’t understand…

With my elbow still clenched in his hand, Victor turns to Arthur Hamburg and says, “Fifteen thousand,” and Hamburg’s face lights up. “And it’ll be another fifteen if I let you go down on me.”

I feel my eyes widening in my skull.

“It’s a deal.”

“No,” I say and try to wrench my arm free, but then Victor narrows his eyes at me and I give in.

“Bend over the table,” Victor says.

What?...

He looks at the heavy square marble table to my right, moving nothing but his eyes.

“Now, Izabel,” he demands.

Oh my God…

Hesitantly I step over to the table and lay my stomach and chest across it from the waist up. Already I feel the air in the room brushing against the fabric of my panties. I swallow hard.

Victor comes up behind me and raises my short dress the rest of the way over my butt, resting it on my lower back. One of his hands squeezes my cheeks.

“Make her cry,” Arthur Hamburg says from the chair behind me. “I have things you can use if you’d like.”

“I can make her cry without them,” Victor says, pulling my panties down and letting them fall around my ankles. I gasp uncomfortably as I’m exposed. “But I might use them still. It’s been a while since I really hurt her.”

Arthur Hamburg makes a strange noise I’ve never heard before. “Oh yes, I’d very much like to see that.” He smacks his hands together and adds with creepy delight, “How small is she? I have a rubber bat.”

I freeze against the table, his comment sucking the breath right out of my lungs.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I’m ready to kill him now. He could be my first kill. I’m ready to do it!

My hands begin to shake underneath my chest.

Stay in character, Sarai…no matter what.

Then suddenly, as if we’re no longer in the room with this sick fucking bastard, I feel Victor’s fingers slide into me and I’m instantly wet. I gasp sharply, the warm breath emanating from my lips coats the marble table inches from my face with moisture. I watch it appear and disappear with every rapid breath I take.

“Spread your legs,” Victor instructs.

At first I don’t, but when he wedges both hands between my thighs and forces them apart, exposing me fully, I don’t fight him, I just grapple the edge of the table with my fingertips and straighten my back.

Killing SaraiWhere stories live. Discover now