Page 109 of Essence of Fear

Viktoria regretted nothing.

“Still mouthy, I see,” he murmured.

Viktoria raised a brow but said nothing.

Mouthy was the least of her problems.

And certainly not a flaw.

For the time she had been stuck in this house with Boris and the men helping him—too long, but she was trying not to pay attention to the passing time—he’d mostly left her alone. Mostly. Sometimes, like now, he would come in and taunt her, but it was almost like something was holding the asshole back from really doing what he wanted with her.

She had to wonder …

Was that because he’d been told to wait?

By who?

Her father, likely.

Fucking Vadim.

Her lack of responses didn’t seem to be what Boris wanted. In a flash, the man had crossed the room to come and stand right in front of her position on the worn-down couch. He’d finally untied her, but not before slapping her for good measure and warning her to behave.

She was allowed to move from this room to the bathroom, but someone was always watching her. She couldn’t even piss without a companion standing next to the toilet. And they would watch her the entire damn time, too.

Dignity.

What was that?

Viktoria was barely able to suck in a sharp breath before Boris reached out and grabbed her face in his hands. His fingers dug into her flesh, probably leaving his disgusting marks behind, like he hadn’t already left enough scars on her body for her to relive time and time again. Not that he cared about those, either.

He cared about nothing.

Just causing pain.

He shook her face a bit, and she sneered right back at him the tighter his hold became on her jaw. She refused to give this man a single fucking inch now. He’d not ever shown her mercy in the past, and she highly doubted that he was going to start now.

So yeah.

Fuck him.

She would fight this time.

Boris bent down. The ache in her jaw increased from the pressure of his hold, but she didn’t show it. She looked him right in the eyes, unafraid, and wanting him to know it, too.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking you,” he said, a sadistic smile curving his lips upward. “And I will enjoy it even more to watch you cry and beg while I do it, Viktoria.”

“You can’t break something that’s already broken.”

His teeth clenched.

She spat on him.

All things considered, that probably wasn’t the best thing to do, but it was too late now. Viktoria couldn’t find it in herself to regret doing it, either. Not even when Boris reared back, lifted his hand, and slapped her with enough force to send her sprawling over the couch.

Blood bloomed on her tongue.

Her jaw ached.