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Her anger dissipated, leaving a cold, hard emptiness in its wake. She walked out of the bathroom; the towel still clutched around her body. The bed looked untouched, the pillows plump and inviting, a stark contrast to the chaos she felt inside. She knew she had to get dressed; to play the part he had assigned her, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

Her gaze fell upon a dress lying on the bed where she had tossed it, the dress she had worn on Vice's birthday. A mockery of the joyous occasion it had once been a part of. Now, the vibrant fabric seemed to mock her, a reminder of a time when she had believed in the possibility of happiness. She slid it on with trembling hands, each movement feeling like a betrayal of her own dignity, a surrendering of her very soul.

The clock on the wall chimed, each echoing notes a nail in the coffin of her hope. The heavy, deliberate footsteps grew louder in the hallway, announcing the inevitable arrival of her tormentor, and she braced herself for what was to come. She stood with her back facing the door, a fragile shield against the coming storm. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her erratic breathing. She felt like she was going to cry and throw up, the fear constricting her throat, stealing her breath. The door creaked open...

"You look...beautiful," a familiar voice purred, laced with a false sweetness that sent a shiver of dread down Ivy's spine.

Ivy whipped around, her eyes narrowing into furious slits. "You!" she spat, the word a venomous projectile, as sharp and dangerous as the shards of shattered glass glinting on the floor near the door she wished she had barricaded.

The man from the bookstore, the same one who had smiled so warmly at her, stepped fully into the room. A wicked grin stretched across his face, a mask that did little to conceal the predatory gleam in his eyes. They travelled over her, lingering on her curves, with a hunger that made her skin crawl, stripping away her confidence and leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

"Ivy," he said, his voice smoother than the expensive brandy she'd thrown at the door. It was a voice she’d had found charming, even comforting before. Now, it dripped with menace. "What a pleasant surprise."

Her mind reeled, a chaotic jumble of disbelief and growing horror. This couldn't be happening. This man, who'd discussed her favorite book with such genuine enthusiasm, who'd generously paid for her coffee and then, with a sheepish smile, asked her on a date… a date he then stood her up for, leaving her feeling foolish and disappointed. Now, the truth slammed into her with the force of a physical blow: He wasn't just some awkward bookworm; he was a monster, just like Vice.

The room felt like it was closing in around her, the walls pressing inward, stealing her air. “You're just like Vice," she whispered, her voice shaking with disbelief, the sound barely audible above the frantic pounding of her heart.

"Oh, I'm much more than that'," he said, his eyes gleaming with a malice that sent icy tendrils snaking through her veins. He relished her fear, feeding off it. "And Vice tells me you're quite the conversationalist. I've come to see formyself." He took a step closer, his shadow looming over her. "But I prefer my entertainment a little more... interactive." The hunger in his eyes intensified, promising pain and violation. He was a predator circling his prey, and Ivy knew, with a chilling certainty, that she was trapped.

"Funny I didn't peg you as a man who had to pay for a woman." she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

He chuckled, the sound grating against the tension in the air. "Money isn't always the currency," he said, his smile growing wider. "Sometimes, fear and desperation are worth so much more."

The room was a prison of velvet and shadows, the flickering candlelight casting grotesque shadows across the man's features, turning him into something out of a nightmare.

"Please don't do this," she whispered, her voice shaking.

The man stepped closer, the scent of his cologne overpowering the lingering alcohol. "Don't worry, Ivy," he said, his tone patronizing. "I know you're new to this, but trust me, you'll enjoy this."

Bile rose in her throat. "No, please," she whimpered, her voice trembling with fear, as she put her hands up and backed away from him. "I can't do this."

But her words fell on deaf ears as he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, his hand wrapping around her throat like a vice. He slammed her against the wall with a force that almost knocked the wind out of her. Her heart pounded in her chest, a wild, desperate rhythm that seemed to echo through the room. His other hand grabbed her wrists,pinning them above her head. The suddenness of his actions took her by surprise, leaving her gasping for air.

"I promise I'll be gentle at first," he murmured into her ear, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. His grip on her neck tightened, his words a mockery of comfort. "But if you cause any trouble or if you do anything other than what I tell you to do," his voice grew darker, "then I won't be so gentle.”

The fear in Ivy's eyes grew, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt the roughness of the stone wall against her back. She knew that if she didn't do something, she would be lost to this monster. Her survival instincts kicked in, and she started to struggle with renewed vigor, her legs kicking out, trying to connect with any part of him she could. But his grip was like iron, and she was no match for his brute strength.

His fingers dug into her neck, the pressure increasing until she saw stars. "You can't do this!" she choked out, her voice strained and desperate. "I won't let you!"

The man's grin grew wider, his eyes glittering with excitement. "Oh, but you will," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You're in no position to refuse."

Ivy felt the world spin around her as the pressure on her throat increased. Her vision blurred, and she knew she was running out of time. Summoning every ounce of strength she had, she screamed a deep guttural scream. "I won't be you're whore!" she squeezed her eyes shut.

The man's grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin painfully. "You'll be whatever I want," he snarled, his breath hot against her cheek. "Look at me," he growled dangerously. “I said look at me.”

Her eyes snapped open, filled with a hatred so intense it could have set the room ablaze. And as she stared into the cold depths of his eyes, she saw something there, something familiar. The realization hit her like a lightning bolt, and she froze.

Then with a sudden burst of hope, she looked down at his wrist, noticing the thick black leather band. Without a moment's hesitation, she reached for it, her movements swift as a snake. The man's eyes widened in shock, his hand shooting out to catch hers, but she was quicker. Her slender fingers closed around the bracelet, and with a sharp yank, she pulled it free from his wrist. The leather snapped like a whip, and the room fell silent as the man stared at her in disbelief.

The band fell from her hand, she looks to see a series of deep, jagged scars that crisscrossed his pale skin. She lightly ran her fingertips over them, tracing the lines that told a story of pain and suffering she knew existed beneath the veneer of his cruelty. Her face softened as she studied the intricate pattern of his torment, feeling the warmth of his pulse beneath her fingertips.

As relief washed over her, she looked up at him with a slight smile playing on her lips. "Vice," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement. "You didn’t really think I'd let another man touch you, did you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her very bones. “You’re mine, Ivy.”

"I was hoping you wouldn't," she said as she cupped her hand on his face.

Vice's smirk faded, replaced by something softer, something she had never seen before. His hand came up, gently cupping her hand, pushing her palm closer to his cheek. He nuzzled into it, his stubble rough against her skin. She felt the warmth of his breath. His eyes closed, and for a moment, he just stood there, letting her touch him without the barriers of his cruelty or the mask he used to hide from the world.