[ This chapter have many distrubing scenes such torture and etc so please read with caution]
For a long moment, he just stood there, looking at her back. The gentle, blindingly warm smile that had charmed the servants just moments ago melted off his face like wax sliding off a hot candle.
What was left behind was a canvas of pure, unadulterated apathy. His dark, bottomless eyes swept over her small, heavily decorated frame. He tilted his head, his gaze cold, calculating, and deeply sadistic.
"My beautiful wife," the Prime Minister whispered.
His voice was still melodic, but the warmth was completely gone. It sounded like a blade sliding smoothly out of a silk sheath.
The third wife slowly turned her head. Her blank, dead eyes met his. She didn't flinch. She didn't cry. She had learned a long, long time ago that crying only made the game more entertaining for him.
