I watch her in awe, spellbound by how fucking powerful she is in this moment. She's monologuing like a true fucking villain, and I'm here for it.
My little doll, in her villain era, is even more phenomenal than when she was just powerless and helpless in my basement.
“We moved states, left everything in the past. But we didn't heal as much as we thought we did. I always knew I was a little broken, and I think he knew it too. He tried so hard to take care of me. And then you took him from me. Or, rather, you took me from him.”
“I don't know what you're fucking talking about.” Jenko yells. “I didn't fucking do anything.”
“You sure? This could be your last chance to confess your sins. Anything you want to get off your chest?” She drags the point of the knife, covered in the blood of his poker buddies, down his chest to emphasize her point. She doesn't use pressure, but it's enough to split the fabric, making it peel away from him and exposing more tattoos on his chest.
“Fuck you.” He snaps. “I haven't done anything wrong.”
“No?” She licks her lips and cocks her head, thoughtful. “You never snatched people off the street?”
Jenko's eyes widen a bit as her words sink in.
“What?”
But she doesn't answer his question. She asks another.
“You never threw people into the back of a semi-truck trailer?”
“I—”
“You don't recognize me, do you?” She chuckles. “That's fucking rude.”
“I don't—” He pants, like the air is getting thin. “I don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen you before tonight."
“It's fine.” She laughs, and I don't know who she's trying to convince... herself, him, or me.
My concern is rising, along with my confusion.
“Howwouldyou recognize me like this? I didn’t look like a doll when you tore my clothes off of me…”
She slips the dress down her shoulders, letting her breasts fall free.
Fucking hell.
I've never seen someone look so scared by a pair of tits, particularly considering hers are glorious.
Little pink nipples against creamy skin, and they're the perfect shape to fill my palms.
I’m not sure exactly what’s going on right now.
She continues undressing, and part of me wants to stop her.
But this is her moment, now. And it is exquisite.
When the dress falls to the floor, she kicks it at Jenko.
“Do I look familiar now?”
When I shared their files with her, she gave me absolutelyzeroindication that she knew any of these men beyond her recognizing them as the men from my theater, but I can gather what she's getting at.
This fucking creep hurt my little doll.
My wife.
We both see the recognition light in his dark eyes. One moment, he looks at her like she's crazy, and then his eyes dip to the scars on her thigh, the place she branded herself a slut with her own blood and pain.
