Page 255 of Corrupting Camille
My pulse slows to a near-stop, blood roaring deafeningly in my ears.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” I snarl softly, murder edged in every syllable.
He grins wider. “Or you’ll do what?”
His man grabs Camille violently, hauling her upright. She cries out once, sharp, breaking my fucking soul. She fights them, screaming my name desperately, her voice cutting through me like shattered glass.
But I’m trapped.
No door, no obvious entry, just reinforced glass separating me from her, her terrified eyes, pleading yet defiant, locked fiercely onto mine.
Rojas grips her jaw hard, forcing her gaze toward me. “Watch, Rivera,” he murmurs. “This is what surrender looks like.” Rojas turns her face toward the glass with a mock tenderness that makes my fucking skin crawl. His fingers dig into her jaw,smearing dirt and blood like she’s a thing he owns, a trophy he plans to shatter just to spite me.
Camille doesn’t look away.
Not from me.
Not from him.
Her eyes stay locked on mine, wide with terror, but still fierce. Still demanding I don’t fall to pieces. Still daring me to be the monster I told her I am.
Rojas leans in. His lips brush her cheek, too close, too slow.
Then he kisses her.
It’s brief. Intentional. A fucking challenge.
Camille flinches, but not away. She turns into it.
And bites.
Hard.
Rojas jerks back with a snarl, blood suddenly streaking his mouth. “You little bitch...!”
His hand snaps out.
The slap cracks like a gunshot, echoing through the chamber.
Camille crashes to the concrete, a ragdoll, stunned and winded. Her shoulder hits first. Her head slams the floor next.
My vision reds out.
He moves before I can, drops to his knees, grabs a fistful of her hair, and yanks her up again like she’s weightless.
“You think you’re strong?” he growls, voice guttural now, stripped of the smug composure. “You think he makes you safe?”
She gasps, breathless, dazed, but still fighting. Her hands strain against the zip ties, legs kicking, screaming, thrashing as he slams her back down again, harder, until her cry turns raw and strangled.
And she fights.
God, she fights.
I slam my fist into the glass, once, twice, rage splitting through my knuckles, useless, caged.
My knuckles bleed against the glass.
He climbs on top of her, straddles her, pinning her down with his full weight. She’s screaming my name, kicking, fighting with everything she has left, and I can’t fucking touch him.
