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Chapter 17

IRENA'S POV

Those words sink into the marrow cracks of my bones. His crass words are nails raking my back.

"I'm going to pull the trigger."

Those haunting words danced in the air like a threatening thunderstorm ready to curse the lands with its wrath.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my heartbeat quickens as I feel the hairs on the nape of my neck lift away from my skin. An unsettling cool chill passes through my body like a ghost.

"When did Vicktor start abusing you?" he questioned, I inhaled an unsteady breath. I lift my gaze to Saint who no longer wears the sadistic grin. A prickling sensation webs my nerves, encasing me in cold. "A year later into our marriage." I answer, beads of sweat prickling onto my forehead. Saint's sharp merciless gaze sweeps over the length of my body, then his eyes lock with mine again. It's not the seductive desirable way, it's the ruthless and painful kind. Nervously I dart my tongue out and lick my lips.