Her whole body was full of hickeys and bruises of his hard grip.
Her lower part was sore and filled with his semen and her blood making it sticky.
She was so tired but he...he was still energetic as if he can continue the whole night. His whole body was sweaty.
His hair all disheveled from the sweat.
Vincent leaned back on the pillows, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.
He reached for his phone, the glow of the screen casting his flushed skin.
His thumb swiped idly through messages.
Evangeline lay beside him, her face with exhaustion and pain.
Her long hair, styled for the wedding, was a tangled mess that spread out across the pillow.
She could feel the stickiness between her thighs.
Vincent, on the other hand, looked just fine, a smug smile playing on his lips as he casually scrolled through his phone.
He was lying on his side, his head propped up by one hand, his elbow digging into the plush pillow.
Evangeline couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief with tears in her eyes, her own body a wreck of pain and exhaustion.
He looked like he could go for another round, while she felt like she had been run over by a truck.
"Good girl," Vincent said without looking at her, his tone devoid of any warmth focusing on his phone. "You took it well. For a second I thought you would faint."
Evangeline's eyes burned with unshed tears as she stared at the ceiling.
She felt used, dirty, and utterly defeated.
Vincent, seemingly oblivious to her agony, placed his phone on the side table with a clunk, the screen going black.
He rolled over and laid down, his body cold next to hers.
She flinched as his arm slid over her waist, his grip like a steel band.
"Sleep," he commanded. "You'll need to wake up early tomorrow."
She nodded at his words not to anger him. She then rolled onto her side, her eyes fixed on the wall as she willed herself to find some semblance of peace.
She felt his arm wrap around her, his grip getting firm.
Days passed since the wedding night. She remembered Sara wasn't there working in the mansion anymore after the night she was caught.
So she got worried about her since she was the one helped her to escape.
So she asked Clara about her, but she didn't know anything about her which was believable.
So she wanted to ask Vincente but didn't have the courage.
But one day in the morning when she was helping him knot his tie she gathered enough courage to ask him.
"Where is Sara?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling slightly as she carefully aligned the ends of the tie.
Vincent looked down at her, his eyes cold. "Sara?" He repeated the name as if it was a foreign concept. "That's none of your business. "
He took the tie from her hand and finished knotting it himself feeling irritated.
His movements were swift and precise, his jaw tightening as he tugged the fabric into a perfect knot.
He didn't need her help, but he allowed it as it was her duty.
"Sir," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the mirror, unable to meet his gaze directly. "Where is Sara? Please tell me."
He looked at her annoyed. "Why do you care about her?" His voice was a low.
Evangeline swallowed hard, her hands shaking slightly. "She was kind to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to know she's okay."she said while grabbing his gray coat from the edge of the bed.
Vincent's gaze narrowed, his hand coming up to grip her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "She had to pay her price for helping you with escape that day" he said, his voice almost a growl. "Now, she's at the hospital. I her live."
Evangeline felt a chill run down her spine. "What did you do to her?" she managed to ask.
Vincent's eyes bore into hers in the mirror, his grip on her chin tightening. "She's alive," he said, his tone clipped. "That's all you need to know." He let go of her chin.
With a heavy heart, feeling guilty for involving that poor soul for her selfish reason.
Evangeline reached for his coat, her hands trembling as she slid it over his broad shoulders.
The fabric was soft and expensive.
She felt his eyes on her as she fumbled with the buttons, her heart racing guilt and helplessness for not being able to do anything for Sara.
Silently praying for her well being.
Vincente's hands hovered over hers, watching her movements.
His fingers brushed against hers as she worked the buttons.
"Good girl," he praised as she finished with the buttons and stepped back
She hated herself for the way her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice, for the way she craved his approval even as he destroyed her piece by piece.
Vincent grabbed his phone, the coldness of his gaze never leaving hers as he slid it into his pocket.
"Let's go," he said, his voice a command that she couldn't ignore.
She followed him to the dining room.
The scent of coffee and bacon filled the air from the kitchen to the dining hall.
Vincent took his seat at the head of the table, he didn't look at her as he picked up the newspaper, his eyes scanning the headlines.
Evangeline moved to stand behind his chair, her body trembling slightly with the effort of holding back the tears that threatened to spill over.
Her mind racing with the thoughts of Sara wondering what was her punishment and how's her condition. She signed deeply.
The maids, brought in steaming plates of food, placing them before him.
They were setting a plate of eggs, bacon, and fresh bread in front of him.
Evangeline hovered by the sideboard, her eyes downcast as she arranged the silverware with trembling hands.
The clink of the spoon against the plate was the only sound in the vast dining room.
The maids moved around her in silence.
He didn't look up from the newspaper, his eyes scanning the pages.
Evangeline took a deep, shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she approached him, then served him each dishes on his plate.
"Your breakfast," she said for him to know.