Zachary stepped forward, his fingers tightening around my chin.
"What reason could be more important than Zoey’s life? Tell me!" he demanded.
When I didn’t answer, his expression turned cold.
"Fine. Since you refuse to speak, I’ll let them... take care of you."
Zachary turned and left, leaving me with the group of disgusting men.
No matter how much I cried or screamed, he didn’t look back.
They tore at my clothes. Their foul breath and drool stuck to my skin. My wrists were tied, and there was no fighting back, no escape.
Since our marriage, Zachary had never physically touched me. Instead, he had allowed these vile men he invited into our home to do so.
He hired people to watch over me, terrified I might try to end my life. He wanted me to slowly perish from the torment.
The audience below was divided.
One side cursed me, saying I deserved this, while the other condemned Zachary’s actions as a violation of the law.
The room was filled with chaotic uproar.
Zachary only sneered. "So you still care about your purity now? Did you ever think about how desperate Zoey was back then? Did you ever care about her dignity?! If you had spoken up earlier, would Zoey have killed herself?!"