I hook a finger beneath her leather jacket and drag it down off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. If she’s surprised by this act, she doesn’t show it.
“Layer by layer, I will strip you of everything that protects your body and your brain until I’m done playing. Remember, you asked for it.”
Her blouse is next. Thin, black, skintight. I peel it off, over her head. Piece by piece, I am removing everything that she thinks makes her strong until nothing remains.
Her bra is simple. Black. Boring. Practical. It is on the floor the next second.
Without it, her breasts are fully on display; perfectly formed, pale and soft in the harsh light. I can’t help but notice how hernipples harden in the cold—because there is no way she’s getting turned on from everything that’s happened, right?
This only causes a spike of an involuntary craving. I could have her now. All I need to do is push her against the wall, remove the last pieces of unnecessary clothing and…No, don’t go there again.
“You don’t even know what part of you will die tonight. Pants,” I continue, stepping back.
She doesn’t move, so I kneel. If she thinks resisting my orders is the best course of action, she is in for a big surprise.
I unhook her belt and unzip her pants, letting them fall to the floor next to the other clothes I’ve already removed. This feels too easy. She probably thinks I will fuck her. Will I? I mean, I could test the sucking theory.No, you will not.Right.
All that’s left covering her is a pair of black panties. She hastheperfect body. Which is not helping, considering the circumstances.
I stand behind her before I do something I’ll regret later, looking her in the eyes through the mirror.
“You still think this is about you?” I ask. “You said you wanted me, thinking you’d be the one controlling the marionette.”
She doesn’t reply, so I continue.
“You fantasized so many times, completely oblivious that this will not be about you or what you want. This will only be about me and what I want.”
She doesn’t look away, staring at her reflection like if she breaks eye contact, she’ll lose the last inch of spine she has left.
“Say it. Say what you see.”
She won’t, so I help her.
“You know what I see? A woman who walked into my game thinking she is better at playing it than I am. And now? She’s just a girl in her underwear, almost shaking, praying I don’t removethe last piece of control she has and reduce her to nothing. Say it.”
She clenches her jaw, not letting a word out, but her eyes locked onto mine in the mirror are almost empty. That infuriates me more. She already lost; she should know it by now. Why is she acting brave?
“You came here thinking you’d impress me. You’re here because you wanted to be ruined by someone who doesn’t give a fuck about your image. Someone who knows who you are underneath it.”
The mirror reflects it all: her slightly trembling fingers, the way she’s folding in on herself, the fact that she doesn’t stop me—or doesn’t have the strength to.
“I own this version of you now,” I say. “You thought I’d give you some physical restraint. Something you could survive.”
I gestured to the recording light. “You’ll watch this later. You’ll replay the moment you started to disappear. And remember, you will not survive this,” I add, ending my self-imposed monologue, while moving toward the door.
“This was just a taste of what’s about to happen. You’ll die at the end of this, Victoria,” I shout as I am stepping out of the building.
I hear the crash of the chair smashing the mirror behind me.
She stepped into this game without knowing the rules. That’s how you trap someone like her. You let them think they can win, and then you destroy every piece of their pride. Humans and their useless pride.
But she will come back. They always do after this phase.
CHAPTER 11
VICTORIA
Well, fuck—what the fuck was that?