Chapter 133

The next morning.

In the bedroom where the clear morning sunlight streamed in, the sight was nothing short of a disaster zone.

The bed and furniture were smashed and scattered in pieces everywhere, and the walls and floor bore clear gouges from five claws. The curtains hanging from the canopy and the bedsheets had been torn to shreds and fluttered in the breeze.

It looked exactly as if some enormous storm had swept through and passed on.

In the middle of it all, a naked Christine lay collapsed, utterly spent. Both arms were chained to the bedposts, and even his mouth was fitted with a gag.

The thick leather gag was in tatters, and his skin, hard as rock, was covered with scrapes both large and small — proof of just how violent his thrashing had been the night before. Scattered around were blood-stained towels and various medicine bottles.

He…