Katarina's legs trembled, sore from his rough grip — especially between them. She pulled her skirt down and turned toward him. Victor was standing near the closet, putting on his clothes.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow for our grandfather's birthday," Victor said coldly as he slipped on a shirt. "I already said we're coming. Put on something nice."
She bit down on her inner lip as tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. "If you hate me so much, why did you even marry me?"
He didn't answer, which only fueled her anger.
"Why!?" she screamed, yanking the blanket beneath her. "Why!? Why?!"
Each word was sharper than the last, driven by desperation. She only stopped when he barked back.
"Do you really not know!?"
Katarina's breath hitched, her eyes trembling as she looked at him. Victor ground his teeth and marched to the bed, grabbing her jaw, fingers pressing hard into her cheeks.
"Do you really not fucking know?" he hissed. "Katarina, you… you're not the victim here."
