42. - Bastard Bitch

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"WAKEY WAKEY PRINCESS" a bucket of ice cold water is toppled on top my head, making my body jerk up

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"WAKEY WAKEY PRINCESS" a bucket of ice cold water is toppled on top my head, making my body jerk up.

My eyes move up, meeting a man about 4 inches taller than me, with a beard, and a man bun on top his head. His teeth are a pearly white color and he has a little mole under is left eye.

"You're even more beautiful in person, I've heard a lot about you belle," his French accent comes rolling off of his tongue.
[Beautiful]

I don't say anything but just glare at him.

"What do you want," I finally grit, breaking the silence.

"We don't want anything, someone else has requested this visit. But he's not here till another week or so. So maybe I'll have a little fun with you myself," his thumb strokes my cheek, making my body shiver from the contact.

Someone else?

Who?

"Dont touch me," I seethe moving away from his touch.

A deep and murderous chuckle escapes him. "No? But I can do anything I want. You're tied up in our chair, around our walls, and under our roof." he smiles.

My eyes poke holes into his forehead, as his eyes roam around my body which has me frowning in disgust.

"You're disgusting".

"Am I now?"

I don't say anything else as I don't feel the need to start a pointless conversation with the idiot.

"Oi, le patron a besoin de vous," Another man stands by the outside of what seems to be my cell, or room that their holding me hostage in... Whatever floats your boat.
[The boss needs you]

Man bun man turns and nods, then looks at me again and smirks. "Tu as eu de la chance ma belle. Je reviens très bientôt." he leans down and kisses my ear.
[You've gotten lucky beautiful. I'll be back soon]

Before I could even get the chance to shove him off of me or kick him in the balls he's gone in a jiffy.

Fucking bloody bastard bitch.

--

My eyes scan my surroundings looking for some sort of weapon, maybe a small window I could escape through?

Yet no luck.

This room is completely and utterly Zamira-proof.

I almost let out a frustrated groan when the man returns, a plate of food in his hands as well as some type of chip and two needles.

"How are you feeling? Better?" he teases with a slight smirk on his face.

"I've just got here and you're already irritating," I roll my eyes, forcing myself to look away from him, mainly the food but whatever.

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