CHAPTER 10 Leaving

  Evelyn's POV

  Even with the knock on the window, guess what?

  Victor didn't stop.

  His hands were relentless, his grip on my thigh tightening as if I were prey he'd been starving for. His other hand kept forcing my face toward his, with his breath hot and reeking of whiskey.

  "Victor," I called, my voice trembling. "Victor, stop!"

  But he didn't.

  The desperation in his eyes terrified me. It wasn't love or passion — it was hunger, raw and selfish.

  He was just acting like a hungry dog who had been starved all his life.

  He always portrayed this perfect gentleman. I always knew him as the man who once held doors open and kissed my hand like a perfect gentleman.

  But right now, it has vanished. What was left was someone who only saw me as something to be consumed.

  My heart pounded fiercely as I pushed at him, my arms were shaking with the effort. But he was stronger.