Later—much later—he’d had his men drag me to a private chamber deep inside the compound.
Bound.
Gagged.
Used.
Over and over.
He’d liked to talk while he did it—casual, conversational, as if we were acquaintances sharing a drink. He’d commented onthe weather. On business. On how fortunate he was to have such obedient men.
He’d laughed when I cried.
My hands curled into fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. I barely felt the sting of blood breaking skin.
I stepped forward.
“Here,” Dmitri said calmly from behind me.
I turned.
He held out a telescoping police baton—black, heavy, lethal. The metal gleamed under the harsh lights, spotless, like it had been waiting for this moment.
“You don’t have to use your beautiful hands on these bastards,” he said quietly. No anger. No spectacle. Just certainty.
Something hot and choking surged up my chest—rage and trauma twisting together until I could barely tell them apart. My fingers closed around the baton. It felt solid. Real.
I snapped it open.
The sharp metallic crack echoed through the cavernous room, bouncing off the walls like a gunshot.
Every bound body flinched.
I walked toward him.
He stared up at me now, eyes wild, pupils blown wide with terror. His head shook in frantic, jerking motions.
Muffled whimpers pushed past the duct tape, wet and pathetic. He strained against the zip ties until his shoulders trembled, chains rattling uselessly against the iron rings as he tried to shrink himself smaller.
There was nowhere to go.
I stopped directly in front of him.
He smelled like fear and stale sweat. Like every man who had ever stood over me and thought himself untouchable.
I raised the baton.
The first swing struck his left cheek.
The sound was wet and sickening—a crack like wood splitting under pressure. Blood bloomed instantly, soaking through the silver duct tape in a spreading crimson stain. His head snapped sideways with the force of it. I saw teeth shift—one clattering loose inside his mouth.
His body convulsed violently against the restraints. No scream—just strangled, animal noises trapped behind the gag, bubbling and broken.
I didn’t hesitate.
I hit him again.
Same cheek.