First Scratch

The bed creaked as Valerie was thrown effortlessly onto the mattress. Her body ached; she felt a slight twinge of pain in her back and the back of her head.

Valerie was shocked; Rovano was treating her—very roughly. This was no way for a man to treat a woman.

Rovano pulled out a pocket knife; his face was icy cold and Valerie felt that grim aura return.

The girl was still wincing because Rovano had thrown her down so hard.

Once she felt a bit better, she hurried to get as far away as possible when she saw Rovano playing with the knife. She backed away with difficulty, her body feeling heavy with fear.

What does he want with that knife?

Rovano’s sly gaze and smirk caused a cold sweat to suddenly trickle down Valerie’s temples.

Valerie’s heart was pounding so hard, fear spreading through her, as if pumping through every vein in her body; all she could think of now was that she might die—at the hands of this madman.

Rovano managed to get on top of Valerie in a single leap onto the bed; the folding knife was now almost touching Valerie’s right cheek. She was gasping for breath, and the girl swallowed hard with great difficulty.

Her eyes kept darting to the tip of the knife; now her body began to tremble with fear.

Panic, clearly. Who wouldn’t panic in her position? The man before her was impossible to read.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” Valerie pleaded again, her tears flowing once more.

The happy gleam in her eyes that had briefly been there now vanished, replaced once more by the look of fear she’d had when she first met Rovano.

“Didn’t you tell my father you liked me? You even kissed me on the lips in the back garden, you’ve even slept with me up here, you’re even the first man to take me away. Put that knife away!” Valerie screamed in panic.

Rovano’s hand froze just as the tip of the knife was about to touch Valerie’s cheek. The girl’s hands were also almost clutching Rovano’s broad chest. It seemed Valerie intended to fight back but was too afraid to move.

“Shh, no need to shout; we’re in a guesthouse, not at a concert.”

Valerie turned her face to the side, but Rovano pulled her chin again so her head was tilted back, staring straight at him.

The man loomed over Valerie’s body; a grin reappeared on his face, his gaze like that of a hungry lion ready to pounce on its prey.

"Usually I execute my prey without mercy, using a larger knife and locking them in a dark room."

Valerie was even more panicked now; she felt her chest tightening. Was her life going to end here?

"P-please, I don’t want to die, Sir..." Valerie whispered so softly that Rovano had to lean in even closer.

"Didn’t you just say you didn’t care whether you were kidnapped or not? So shut your mouth," Rovano ordered in a very firm tone.

His expression changed drastically; what had been like that of a starving lion was now flat, his gaze cold and piercing.

It was cold; Valerie felt the other side of the pocket knife pressed against her cheek. But Rovano hadn’t yet drawn the sharp edge across her skin.

Rovano lowered Valerie’s arms so they lay at her sides. He stroked her cheek gently.

Valerie was wearing a pale pink dress that had now slipped down to reveal her smooth, white thighs.

Rovano’s eyes shifted there for a moment before fixing on Valerie sharply once more.

“Have you never interacted with a man before?” Rovano asked with his infuriating smirk.

“Of course I have; some of the servants in my house are men, but they’re not like you,” Valerie replied smoothly.

“My personal servant touches me gently, not roughly like this.”

The knife now moved up to the cleavage of Valerie’s dress.

“All this time you’ve been living with your grandmother and your stepmother—where is your mother? Where has Alice gone?” Rovano asked again.

Valerie was startled; that was the name of her biological mother. How could Rovano know the name of a woman whom Valerie herself had never even met since childhood?

All this time, Valerie had been looked after by Silvanna—her grandmother—and Natasha, the lawful wife of Nolan Ashford.

The man didn’t know why he kept asking such trivial questions instead of simply executing his prey. But it seemed that asking a lot of questions was a better way to distract the girl.

But Valerie was actually feeling terribly distressed there; the girl looked terrified, with cold sweat and tears streaming down her face, her gaze never leaving Rovano’s eyes, hoping he would grant her mercy.

His psychopathic lust easily reached its peak just by seeing Valerie in this state. Valerie’s despair, distress and sobs were like a fulfilment of his evil desires.

Rovano took a deep breath; his mind was in turmoil simply from looking at Valerie.

For a moment he stopped what he was doing, allowing Valerie a moment’s peace so she wouldn’t disturb his focus again.

Valerie was reluctant to speak after hearing the final question about her mother’s whereabouts.

Her gaze now fell to the side, her expression sorrowful. She had resigned herself to her fate, for there was nothing more she could do.

Rovano had taken complete control of her body. As soon as he sensed Valerie had calmed down a little, the man resumed his actions.

Srett!

Rovano tore Valerie’s dress from top to bottom; the girl immediately turned to face him and covered her chest with both hands.

Valerie’s pale, smooth body was laid bare after Rovano forcibly pushed the dress aside. Valerie could only offer him a pleading look, shaking her head.

The girl was unable to speak. Rovano tore everything to shreds and used some of the fabric to tie Valerie’s hands behind her head, keeping her still.

Rovano touched Valerie’s flat stomach, the surface of her skin soft; the man closed his eyes for a moment.

What was this sensation? He had never done anything like this before; he usually felt repulsed by women who flirted with him, even going so far as to push them away roughly.

But now he was the one touching a woman; Rovano had even kissed Valerie. Now his hand was on her stomach.

Why was this happening? Was Rovano still in his right mind? Valerie was his prey, but why was he actually enjoying touching every inch of her body? He shouldn’t be this depraved!

Valerie stared at him in silence; her tears were flowing in an endless stream, her legs were pinned in place, and her hands were tightly bound.

“Let me go!” Valerie struggled again, but Rovano held her legs down to keep her still.

Rovano slapped Valerie’s left thigh hard until it turned red, and Valerie screamed. Rovano tore a little more of Valerie’s dress and stuffed it into her mouth, so that when she screamed loudly, her voice would be muffled.

“Hold on, I’ll give you a mark,” said Rovano; he then moved to the side of Valerie, who was lying on her back with her clothes torn and her body completely exposed.

Only her bra and knickers remained on.

The tip of the folding knife had already touched the skin of Valerie’s left thigh; the man seemed to be gauging the size of the gash he was about to make.

It didn’t take long for fresh blood to flow from the wound, trickling down onto the mattress. Valerie screamed loudly, her leg kicking out at Rovano as she struggled to break free, writhing in agony.

“Be quiet or the wound will get deeper!” Rovano snapped as Valerie tried to struggle.

“Hhmmmh!!!” Her gagged mouth screamed in pain, unable to bear the deep agony.

Help me! It hurts so much! Valerie’s heart was screaming.

The man carved a name onto Valerie’s thigh, which was already covered in blood. The carving of a name was a sign that Valerie was Rovano’s prey. The girl belonged to Rovano, forever.

When he was finished, Rovano removed the gag from Valerie’s mouth and wiped his pocket knife; the sound of her heart-wrenching sobs rang out clearly, and Rovano was thoroughly satisfied.

He was extremely aroused now; he took pleasure in seeing Valerie suffer so terribly, even though the wounds he had inflicted were nothing compared to those of his previous victims.

Perhaps because she was a woman? Usually, Rovano executed men who were tied to a chair, skinning or stabbing his victims’ hands and thighs; once he was satisfied, he would stop. He would then call for the doctor and his assistant to attend to his victims.

Rovano put his pocket knife away in a drawer and tossed the torn fabric from Valerie’s dress onto the floor. The girl was wincing in pain from the throbbing cuts.

Rovano climbed back onto the bed and untied Valerie’s hands. The girl was crying, still lying down, her hands reaching out for Rovano as he touched her body. Rovano wiped away the blood that had begun to stop flowing.

“Be still, don’t move about too much, so the bleeding stops,” Rovano brushed Valerie’s hands aside.

Valerie was still trembling; her sobs turned into choking gasps as she babbled, “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.”

“It hurts, sir. It hurts so much,” she whispered through her sobs.

Rovano smiled, but his smile sent shivers down Valerie’s spine. It was the smile of a psychopath, satisfied with his deed.

“Nice body.”

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