It was always like this.
Every time she angered him, the result was the same.
He would punish her relentlessly, mercilessly with his thrusts, never stopping until she broke. Only when she finally begged for forgiveness, when she admitted defeat, did he let himself win.
“Steven… I hate you…”
“Have you learned your lesson yet?”
Her defiance only stoked his fury.
The heavy mahogany desk groaned as it slid across the floor, battered by their struggle. Papers and pens scattered everywhere. A porcelain vase crashed to the ground, shattering into jagged shards.
Outside the office, Lucie’s assistant Amy wrung her hands, eyes wide with panic. “It sounds like they’re fighting in there. What if something’s happened to Ms. Anderson?”
Tanya, a junior assistant, bit her lip. “I… I’m sure it’s nothing. They’re probably just arguing.”
“But I thought I heard her yelling for help. Should we do something?”
“They’re married. I mean, maybe it’s just… personal, right?”
The muffled chaos inside terrified them, but neither dared open the door.
“Should we… should we call Mr. Anderson? Maybe he should come over.”
Amy nodded quickly. “Yes. Call him.”
Half an hour crawled by.
Lucie lay limp, utterly spent, her world spinning. Steven hauled her onto the sofa, but his movement didn’t stop.
“Say you were wrong. All you have to do is admit it, and I’ll let you go,” he demanded.
Her eyes were swollen, red-rimmed, her entire body trembling. For the first time, hatred for him burned through her veins.
“Steven, I will never forgive you. Not ever!”
He sneered, tightening his grip on her chin, forcing her to look at him. He was rough—deliberately cruel—using everything he knew she couldn’t take.
Hard.
Brutal.


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