Verity:

It wasn’t as if I’d never felt this before, fighting to preserve my dignity.

It had happened too many times, especially after I was left alone.

But the way Ragnar came at me felt even more demeaning and soul-crushing.

I had come here for revenge, not to become a victim of their brutality.

He pinned both my hands above my head with little effort and lowered his face toward mine, his knee wedged between my legs.

He was so massive that he blocked all the light falling across my face.

"Didn’t you say you would fuck me?" he muttered, throwing my own words back at me.

"Let me go," I pleaded.

But he only chuckled. A moment later, the chuckle grew into a maniacal laugh.

"It’s always women like you who have big mouths until they end up under a bigger man," he hissed, pressing his forehead against mine.

I could see his gray eyes from up close.

I hated how fresh his breath was.

I wanted his teeth to rot.

I wanted him to be imperfect.

I wanted him to be hiding some disease, but he seemed perfectly healthy.

Even his scent was strong and strangely mesmerizing.

And I hated it.

I hated him.

I wanted to break him.

But at that moment, I couldn’t do anything.

I knew that if I went along with him and slept with him, it would destroy his relationship with Gigi.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

The way he was forcing me down left me unable to think of anything except getting away from him.

He kept my hands pinned above my head with one of his large hands while he started lifting my nightgown.

"No. No, you fucking bastard. You hurt my brother, and now you’re going to hurt me. I won’t let it happen," as I screamed, he froze.

Then he released my hands and straightened up before letting out a chuckle.

"So you were here for revenge," he hissed.

But before I could think about surviving him or escaping, he wrapped his fingers around my neck and yanked me off the couch.

The next thing I knew, his tie was wrapped around my neck, and he was dragging me behind him as if I were his pet.

Sometimes I managed to stay on my feet.

Other times, I stumbled and dropped to my knees, crawling unwillingly behind him before struggling back up, only to fall again when I couldn’t keep pace.

"Where are you taking me?" I screamed, tugging at the tie around my neck.

I had no idea how he had secured it. No matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn’t loosen.

No one said a word.

Not the manager and not even the guard.

Dressed in nothing but his shorts, he dragged me outside.

My knees scraped against the hard ground as he hauled me along before shoving me into the woods.

I landed hard, coughing as I tried to push myself up.

Before I could recover, he grabbed me from behind and slammed me against a tree.

"After tonight, when I’m done with you, I’m going to sell you," he hissed, ripping my nightgown apart and forcing me against the rough bark from behind.

"You fucking asshole," I cried. "I never thought you could be such a monster, Ragnar. You’re the very definition of a devil. How can someone be so cruel?"

My screams echoed through the night until they broke into sobs.

Tears choked me, and everything around me blurred.

I started coughing, trying to scream, but no words came out.

At last, I forced my eyes open when the pain finally faded.

I ran my hands over my body and realized I was still wearing my nightgown.

Then I touched my neck.

There was no tie wrapped around it like a leash, but I was drenched in sweat.

Drawing my knees up, I pushed myself upright and found myself back in the same room, lying on the couch.

I was coughing and struggling for air as my lungs seemed to tighten.

The rapid rise and fall of my chest made me aware of the panic gripping me.

But at least one thing was clear.

It was just a...

"Nightmare?" The cold voice made me swiftly look up, and I gasped.

It wasn’t a ghost or a serial killer, yet his mere presence made me clutch my chest and almost lose my breath.

I sat up on the couch, quickly grabbing my robe from beside me and pulling it around my body to cover my chest and legs.

Across the bed, Ragnar sat in a large chair with his back to the window.

The light streaming in from outside made him look even more dangerous.

A cigar rested between his fingers.

He was dressed entirely in black, his hair tied back.

He took a puff and remained silent.

"Yeah, I guess," I replied.

Tears still streaked my cheeks. I didn’t understand why the nightmare had felt so real.

"Get dressed. We have a meeting to attend."

His voice was low and rough as he took another puff from his cigar.

I clutched the robe around my body and practically rushed into the bathroom, trying to avoid any conversation with him.

It was already hard enough to look him in the eye, and now the nightmare had left me wary of him, even afraid.

Once inside the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped beneath it so he wouldn’t hear my sobs.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I cried silently.

"I will avenge you, Justin," I hissed as my tears mixed with the water. "Even if I have to lose myself in the process."

Determined, I lifted my head and finished my shower.

Afterward, I slipped into a fitted black dress that fell just below my knees.

I paired it with high heels, red lipstick, and my gold-framed glasses.

I styled my hair half up in a ponytail, while the rest cascaded over my shoulders and down my back.

I walked out of the room with courage and enthusiasm, only to realize Ragnar did not give a fuck. He did not even glance at me.

"Let’s go. We’re already late."

That was all he said.

Not only that, but he never asked what the nightmare was about.

I guess I have to try harder and stop being afraid of him.