Page 139 of Sardonic Burn

“Now.” She grabs it and plays with it for a while, a sadistic grin on her face. My cock hardens in my pants as I see my futurewife approach her target, flashing the dagger in his face. “How many women were saved from the auction house?”

“Thirty-eight,” I respond.

“How many were found dead?”

“Nine in total.”

She nods.

“That means forty-seven victims in total. Let me just tell you something, Dylan. I’m not interested in spending too much time here because I have a cruiser waiting for me once I’m done with this. So I won’t be wasting any of my time here, but you’ll remember that the last person you saw alive, the person who took your life, is the same woman you thought wasn’t strong enough to beat you.”

Noelle no longer uses unnecessary words. She grips the handle of the sharp knife, and a wide grin tugs on the corner of her lips.

Viciously, Noelle starts cutting his flesh. It’s deep enough to draw blood and cause an immense amount of pain, but not deep enough to make him bleed to death. It’s slow, and his blood starts gushing out, coating her white shirt.

“This is for every girl you laid your filthy hands on.”

Slash.

“This is for every person whose life you ruined.”

Slash.

“This is for every person whose life you took.”

Slash.

“This is for every time you hit me. For every time you fucking watched me drown.”

Stab.

“This is for daring to destroy the lives of many.”

Stab.

“Fuck you.”

Stab.

“And this one is for daring to fucking interrupt me while I was speaking.”

Another stab in his thigh.

Dylan is gasping for air, his scream filling the room. It makes Noelle’s eyes widen in satisfaction. Her usage of the knife becomes more brutal, more ruthless, and more vicious. His pleas, his desperation, feed her more than anything, and she’s not holding back.

Noelle is laughing like a maniac, his blood splashing her face and body, and the metal in her hands is no longer silver. The blood drips from it, but she wipes it against her shirt, then continues to tarnish what’s left of his body.

“Please.” He’s begging, screaming, and trying to free himself.

Noelle doesn’t let him.

“Oh, so now you know the meaning of the word ‘please’? But when it was me who begged, you paid no attention to it. When you put shackles on all those women and ignored their tears and begging, it was fun, wasn’t it?”

I can barely see Noelle’s face. It’s soaking from the blood, and some droplets are slowly sliding down her cheeks. She takes a deep breath and tilts her head to the side, staring at her work of art.

“Hm, it’s missing something.” She ponders that thought, then her brows shoot up to her hairline and another demonic grin tugs on the corner of her lips. “Oh, I know!”

Teasingly, Noelle points the tip of the blade at his dick, and he freezes. Fear washes over him, and he’s shaking his head furiously, his eyes filled with tears. It makes me chuckle, but neither of them notice me.

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