Love Says She Once Returned

Chapter 10 Hate Me, But Don't Leave

　　With furious intensity, Brandon pressed the cold, unyielding barrel of his gun deep into Elena's body, twisting it mercilessly.

　　"Did you push Belle into the sea just to dig up the truth about Gabriel's death?" he growled.

　　She arched her back with a pained whimper, only for Brandon to sink his teeth into her throat, biting down hard as if he could tear through her fragile windpipe at any moment.

　　Elena struggled violently, her wrists raw and bleeding from the restraints, but it was futile.

　　"Elena," he spat, his voice thick with disgust, "you make me sick."

　　His heart felt like it was being ripped apart, his blood roaring with a murderous rage he hadn't felt since the battlefield.

　　The gun moved relentlessly inside her, soon slick with her own fluids. He dragged his fingers through the mess and smeared it across her face in revulsion.

　　"Getting off on this? What a slut."

　　Elena remained silent, limp against the restraints like lifeless seaweed.

　　"Then how about this?" Without warning, he forced another hard object into her from behind, stretching her to the point of splitting apart.

　　A broken sob finally escaped her as tears spilled down her cheeks, her heart shredded with agony.

　　"Just kill me," she begged. "Please, kill me."

　　Brandon yanked her head back by the hair. "Kill you? So you can run to Gabriel?" His voice was a venomous sneer. "You love this, don't you? Did Gabriel ever make you feel this good? Huh? Answer me!"

　　He thrust harder, each movement tearing her further apart.

　　Behind her, where she couldn't see, Brandon's eyes glistened faintly—because he knew, no matter how much he wanted to, he could neither kill her nor let her go.

　　"Not in this lifetime, nor the next, nor the one after that—I'll never let you go!"

　　Elena had long ceased struggling, her body numb from pain, her frail frame twitching weakly like a sheet of paper.

　　Brandon slid his fingers into her mouth, stirring them to prevent her from biting her tongue. Only when she went completely limp did he withdraw his hand, then brought his fingers to his own lips, adding a perverse warmth to the cold, shadowy chamber.

　　The landline by the interrogation room door rang. Brandon pulled two hard objects from her body before striding toward the sound. "Understood. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

　　His voice was eerily composed, devoid of any trace of emotion—unthinkable for someone who had just indulged in such depravity.

　　After straightening his clothes, Brandon marched out. Soon after, Mrs. Tate entered with two other women, unshackling Elena's wrists and ankles before preparing to dress her in fresh garments.

　　But when they saw the state of her most intimate area, even the experienced Mrs. Tate froze. She drew a sharp breath, turned her face away, and with trembling hands, carefully helped Elena into her undergarments.