The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus) novel Chapter 533

After delivering her chilling threat, the brute named Butch knocked Alice out cold with a swift swipe of his meaty hand. He and his crony, a wiry fellow with a nose ring and a snake tattoo slithering up his neck, hoisted the unconscious Alice and carried her away like a sack of spuds.

The chill night wind whistled through the back alleys, swirling the discarded detritus of urban life, indifferent to the sinister scene that had just played out.

When Alice came to, she found herself in a dire predicament. Her arms and legs were spread-eagle, tied to the walls of a dingy room. Several menacing men encircled her, sporting an array of piercings and ink that told tales of dubious distinction. Her teeth chattered in terror. "Wha—what do you want with me?"

The bald ringleader, Butch, the very same man who had felled her earlier, stood front and center, flanked by his goons. He groped Alice's chest crudely. "Not bad, fresh meat."

Alice let out a shriek, which was silenced by a stinging slap across her cheek. "Shut your trap! Squeal again, and I'll gag you so fast your head will spin," Butch snarled.

A red imprint of his hand marked her face, and fear clenched her heart. She knew she was in deep trouble.

One of Butch's lackeys piped up, "Hey, boss, don't gag her. It's no fun that way."

Butch let out a bellowing laugh. "True, true. A feisty mare is more fun to break!"

Realization dawned on Alice; she understood their vile intentions. "Please, don't do this. I'll do anything. My family's rich, I swear. I'll get them to pay you—anything!"

"Bull! If you were some rich kid, you wouldn't be roaming the streets. Bad luck for you, sweetheart. You're just what we've been looking for," Butch retorted, pulling out a gleaming knife. "Remember, I get to be your first. If you're still a virgin, maybe I'll take care of you. If not, well, don't expect any kindness from me."

Alice was paralyzed with fear, her tears flowing freely. "Please, let me go. I'll do anything for you. I'll be so grateful!"

The gang laughed heartily. "We don't want any farm work from you, though riding... well, that's another story," Butch mocked, pressing the cold steel of the blade to Alice's face. "Either way, you get ridden. Might as well enjoy it, right?"

Alice trembled as the tears streamed down her face. Her pleas were reduced to a mere whisper, "Please, let me go... please..." But her fate was sealed. She was a lamb amidst wolves, with no bargaining power left.

The sound of tearing fabric filled the dimly lit room, accompanied by Alice's muffled sobs and the men's vulgar grunts.

From dawn to dusk, the repugnant men sated their depravity, leaving a broken Alice in their wake. The room was now plunged into darkness. Alice lay discarded on the floor, unsure how many times she had passed out. When she awoke, she curled into herself and wept bitterly. She could never have imagined falling victim to such brutality. Those despicable men deserved death.

She stared into the stifling darkness in despair, her shattered heart turning black with vengeful spite. Someday, she vowed, she would make those who had hurt her pay twofold for the agony they had inflicted upon her.