"So, the poor little rich girl decided to have a fun night in town?" he mocks me, the knife still playing on the surface of my skin. "I've met your parents. Dissolute pair—both of them. I guess I can't be too surprised that their daughter would be the same," he snickers, his eyes full of hate.
"No, I…" I want to explain to him that I'm nothing like my parents, but he doesn't let me continue.
"Oh, I know your type. Wanted to get some dick before your wedding? Tell me, were you going to take it in your ass so you could pretend you're still an innocent virgin on your wedding night?" he spits out the words, malice dripping from every syllable. I flinch at his accusations, especially since I've never heard more vile words in my life.
"What are you talking about?" The question comes out in a whisper, and I blink away the tears. No one has ever spoken like that to me before.
No one!
"I guess your little trip to slut town was cut short when your guards found you. And you decided to hide here." I look at him and I can't believe my ears. He's distorting everything I told him.
"No, you're wrong," I try to protest, but the knife presses further into my throat.
It hurts!
"I'm wrong?" He raises an eyebrow, his lip curling inderision. "If you're so ready to whore yourself out, then come on, do it." He takes the blade away from my throat, slowly trailing it down my rib cage before cutting through the material.
I gasp as what's left of my shirt falls away, parting in the middle to reveal my naked breasts. I immediately cover myself with my arms and scoot back.
"Leave me alone! I already told you everything, what more do you want?" I yell at him, tired of being insulted when I didnothingwrong. Well, except for trespassing on his boat—a decision I'm already deeply regretting.
He still has that amused expression on his face, and it only serves to fuel my anger further.
"Psychopath! You're a psychopath."
"Am I?" He tilts his head to the side, studying me. "Maybe," he shrugs. "How about I make you a deal? You let me fuck you and I'll take you back to the port."
I'm not so dumb that I don't understand what he's saying. He wants me to give him my virtue for my freedom. I almost laugh out loud. He may be handsome, but he's a handsome devil. And younevermake a deal with the devil.
"No."
His eyes widen for a moment before he resumes his expression of open derision.
"No? You're sure? How are you going to get back then?" He folds his hands over his chest, laughing softly at me.
"I'll swim back!" I say before I can think things through. He thinks he has the upper hand, but I'd rather die than let this devil defile me.
He bursts out laughing at my words, and his ridicule makes me want to prove him wrong. He must think thateverywoman falls at his feet just because he's good-looking. I may not have much, but at least I have my pride, and I won't let him win.
"Need I remind you that youcan'tswim? I think you alreadyproved that when you almost drowned." He's holding on to his abdomen as he continues to laugh.
My hands clench into fists, and I do a quick scan of my surroundings. Before I lose my courage, I dash to the side of the boat and grab a lifeline. I place it around my body and, turning back to him, I do the only thing I can think of.
I stick out my tongue at him, one finger pulling at my eye in ayou'll seesort of expression.
Then, without looking back to see his response, I throw myself into the sea. This time, the lifeline keeps me afloat, and I move my hands and feet, paddling through the water. I'm happy when I see I'm gaining some distance, only to have a beam of light shine on me. I stop, turning back toward the boat. Squinting, I see the insufferable devil still laughing as he points the light at me.
"Are you done yet? Or do you need more time?" he yells, the sound diffused by the waves crashing into the boat.
I'm already freezing, but I won't let him get away with his malefic plan.
"I won't be your whore!" I shout at him, turning to push myself forward again.
I know I'm not likely to reach the shore—ever. But I'd rather perish of my own free will than be subjugated to the devil's wiles. Just as Daphne spurned Apollo to keep her virtue, preferring to shed her mortal skin and be forever turned into a tree, so would I prefer to become one with the sea, my conscience clean, my soul at peace.
With that thought, I try to forget the chattering of my teeth or the way my limbs are becoming enveloped in numbness. No, I just keep on going.
"Damn it all, little tigress. You're crazy, aren't you?" A strong hand grabs the lifeline, pulling me back.
