Ilkhan. Mine No Matter What!

With my hands behind my back, I stood in the middle of my room and watched as Sheglova—smudged with spilled ink, her hair ruined by a bad haircut, in a dirty dress—puffed and breathed hard, staring at me with the look of a trapped little animal. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Apologies… On your knees? Yeah?” I walked over to the girl at an unhurried pace, and she pressed herself back against the door. “It doesn’t work anymore, princess,” I said, wiping her lipstick off her lips with my thumb. “Now tell me—how did you call me?” “I’m sorry, please… I… I didn’t mean to,” Sheglova tried to look away. “Say it,” I squeezed her chin and tilted her face up, into her eyes full of fear and tears. “Come on!” “Orangutan…” she whispered, barely audible.

I smirked. “You’re even pretty with smeared makeup,” and in one sudden move I tore her dress—from her chest down to her waist…