CHAPTER 162
KATYA POV
The first strike had been a shock. The rest were a blur of white-hot agony. I was on the floor, my face pressed against the cold, expensive carpet that smelled of Marina's cloying perfume.
I had lost count of the time. I had lost count of the strikes. The only thing that existed was the rhythmic whistle-crack of the wood and the explosion of fire across my skin.
I was wailing, the sound muffled by the floor, my eyes streaming until I couldn't see anything but distorted shapes of white and gold.
Whack.
I jerked, a fresh sob breaking out of my throat. My lower lip was bleeding, almost numb from how hard I had been biting down on it.
Trying so hard to suppress the screams—to not give them the satisfaction—but the pain was too much.
It was a living thing, tearing at me. Gina and Marina were relentless. Marina wasn't even the one holding the cane, but she was the one giving the orders.
