"No... I wouldn't dare..."
The words barely made it out before they were cut off—literally.
The man's hand clamped tightly around Serena's throat, pressure slowly building. Her face flushed red from the lack of air, and yet he just grinned more, like he was enjoying the sight.
She looked at him, terrified, frantically hitting his arm, trying to break free. But the man didn't budge—as if her struggle didn't even register.
Only when her strength faded, like a beached fish gasping on the shore, did he finally let go, like tossing away something boring.
"If Claire managed to walk away from me alive, that's her luck," he sneered down at her, as she gasped and clutched her throat, desperate for air. "What I do—win or lose—you think you get to judge me?"
The scorn in his voice
