"Sir, please… we are waiting for you," one of Mark's men said, his voice low and hesitant.
"Just go. I'll be there shortly," Mark replied, his tone calm yet carrying a dangerous edge.
He descended into his dungeon — a cold, suffocating place buried deep underground. The smell of damp concrete and fear lingered in the air.
"Well, well, well… enjoying your stay here?" Mark's voice echoed off the walls, sharp and mocking. His eyes locked on the man chained to a metal chair in the center of the room — the man who had dared to lay his filthy hands on his woman.
"Scorpion, get me a chair," Mark ordered without looking away from his prey.
"Here you go, sir," Scorpion replied, sliding a chair beside him.
"Oo, thanks," Mark murmured, lowering himself into it with deliberate slowness, his gaze never wavering. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"So… will you start talking, or should I let my men do what they do best?"
The man's voice was barely a whisper. "Sir… I have nothing to tell you. I came here by myself."
Mark's jaw tightened. "I don't believe you. Do you take me for a fool?" He chuckled darkly. "Alright… you're not willing to talk, huh? Fine. Scorpion—peel his skin."
The man's eyes widened in sheer terror. "No! No, sir, please!" He began shaking violently, his chains rattling against the chair.
Mark didn't move. He simply sat there, watching with cold satisfaction as two of his men got to work. The first slice tore into the man's flesh, and the dungeon filled with bloodcurdling screams.
Mark smiled faintly, as if the sound was a symphony only he could appreciate. "Now… do you have something to say? Or should they continue?" His tone dripped with menace.
"I… I have nothing to tell you!" the man choked out, his voice breaking from the pain.
"You're really loyal, aren't you? I mean—how much did they pay you?" Mark's voice lowered, colder now. "You'd better start talking before I torture you myself. And trust me… you won't like it when my madness surfaces."
Some of his men shifted uncomfortably at the edge in his voice. Mark noticed, and let out a short, humorless chuckle.
"Scorpion… pour acid into his wounds."
A slow, evil smile crept across Mark's lips as the man screamed again — this time louder, rawer, his voice hoarse from agony.
"Ronald. Pass me the pliers," Mark said, standing up.
Ronald obeyed instantly.
Mark walked to the prisoner. "Hold his hands," he ordered.
"No! No, please, sir! NOOO—!" The man's cries echoed through the stone walls as Mark slowly, methodically, plucked out each fingernail. One by one. Each scream seemed to feed the darkness in his eyes.
"I'll talk! I'll talk!" the man finally broke, trembling violently.
"Good boy," Mark said, patting his bruised shoulder — deliberately pressing into the fresh wounds, savoring the flinch of pain.
"Miss Raphaelina hired me… she asked me to record it. She was planning to use the video against you."
"Was that exactly her order?" Mark asked, voice like steel.
"Yes, sir."
"Gentleman… you'll be doing yourself a favor by speaking the truth."
"That's the truth, sir!" the man cried.
Mark's expression darkened. "The video says otherwise. You were ordered to take naked pictures of her… but you couldn't resist her beauty, so you decided to have your way with her, didn't you?"
The man's eyes widened in shock.
Mark chuckled darkly. "You see… I gave you the chance to tell me the truth. But you lied to me. And one thing I hate more than anything… is lies."
His voice dropped to a growl. "So Ralph is behind this."
He turned to his men. "Kill him."
The sound of the gunshot followed Mark as he stormed out of the dungeon, his rage simmering beneath his skin. But first… he had to check on his wife.
Upstairs, he gently opened the bedroom door. Aurora was fast asleep, her face calm, almost angelic. Her hair was still damp, her clothes changed — Angel must have cleaned her up.
Mark moved closer, sitting beside her. Just listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing brought him an unfamiliar sense of peace.
"To be sincere… I didn't even realize when I fell for you," he whispered, his voice soft. "You're different from every woman I've met. Unique. Special."
He hesitated. "I love you."
His gaze dropped to the pearl ring on her finger. He sighed. "It's going to be very difficult to win you over… you're still living in your past."
He stroked her hair gently, and before he knew it, he had drifted off beside her.
My eyes fluttered open. I yawned, sitting up — and froze when I saw Mark, asleep in the chair beside my bed.
Then the memories of last night crashed back, and my body began to shake violently. Tears welled and slid down my cheeks.
I didn't realize I was sobbing until I felt eyes on me.
I was asleep, but I could hear someone crying. My eyes opened sharply… and I realized it was Aurora.