He rubbed a thumb over my lips, spreading the blood from where I bit myself across my cheek. “We all have our vices, don’t we?” My eyes shone with disagreement. “Malen’kaya Igunishka,” he drawled. “I haven’t forgotten how fast you came onto me—and all over my hand, for that matter. You said so yourself, if it wasn’t with me, it would have been with another.” His grip tightened in my hair. “Albert, maybe.” I felt sick. Degraded. Weak. I didn’t know if I could survive this. “Now the formalities are over, shall we give your papa a preview of what’s to come?” I blinked when his phone moved in front of us. The devil was sardonic and tech-savvy. My neck ached from his ruthless grip on my ponytail as he posed us for a twisted selfie. “Smile for the camera.” Click. OceanofPDF:com