Chapter 391 My Precious

I couldn't shake the memory of what I'd seen in the basement. The bodies under those white sheets-completely exposed-had been coated with some strange substance. The thought churned my stomach.

Even though he hadn't done that to them, the idea of him manipulating lifeless forms was disturbing enough.

"Yael, I'm really tired today," I said, my voice trembling. "Maybe we can do this another time. I—"

He stepped closer, cutting off my retreat with deliberate ease. "Chloe, there's nothing to worry about. I won't hurt you. I just need to see your body. Silas damaged your original one, and I've regretted it ever since. This new body-it's flawless. I want to study it properly." "Yael," I stammered, my mind racing. "It's cold. Undressing isn't a good idea right now."

"Chloe," he replied, his tone calm. "This island stays warm all year. You won't get cold."

His hand moved toward my collar, fingers grazing the buttons of the shirt Carter had dressed me in earlier.

"Yael, stop!" I cried, my heart pounding.

With a swift motion, he yanked at the fabric. Two buttons popped off, and my shoulder was left bare, the strap of my top slipping into view.

Horror washed over me as I realized what he could see. The marks Carter had left on me bruises, kisses-spoke volumes about the night we'd shared.

Yael's expression darkened. His voice grew icy.

"Chloe, your body is ruined."

Panic gripped me. "Yael, you know I'm married. It's normal for a husband and wife to-" My words faltered.

"Marks like these destroy the beauty," he interrupted, his tone detached, almost clinical.

His focus wasn't on me as a person. It was his relentless pursuit of perfection in his art. Yet, the tension in the room made it hard to breathe.

I scrambled to calm him. "They'll fade in a few days. We can continue once they're gone, okay?"

A small smile crept across his face, but it brought no comfort. "There's no need to wait. If something's dirty, you clean it."

"Clean it?" I asked, dread creeping in. "How?"

Images flooded my mind-horrific scenes of being scrubbed raw with a stiff brush or held down in some cruel attempt at purity.

Or perhaps something even worse. An assault so cruel that only existed in stories.

could react, he bent

"Don't move, Chloe. I can't promise what I might do if you fight. You're so beautiful, and I'm still a

body froze. Fear locked every muscle in place. I didn't

laugh drifted down from above me. "Chloe, you're

I said sharply, meeting his

desire in the way he was obsessed with his art. His

found myself unable to smile or even cry. My body felt like it had

others. Instead of

back-a group of so-called geniuses who thrived in secrecy, creating

large bathtub. Panic surged in me as I instinctively tried to

voice stopped me cold. "Chloe, if you run, I'll have to cut off your legs. That

myself to stay calm, even as fear clawed at me. "The

that felt almost amused. Then he reached out, patting my head like

I knew, cameras were

murmured, my voice tight. "I won't

by the tub and began scrubbing it with meticulous care. His dedication was unnerving. My anxiety rose with each passing second. Though he hadn't laid a hand on me inappropriately, the idea of being so exposed around him made

an inkling of what Whitney must have endured. A single day

managed to

Then he stood and motioned for me to get in. "It's

that he hadn't asked me

I climbed into the water fully dressed. It

wet clothes were

than the alternative.

he'd simply wanted me to clean myself up.

small, dark bottle. Its label looked unfamiliar and untraceable, the kind of thing no legitimate pharmacy would carry.

bottle as though it were precious. "It's something to help you get clean,

wash myself," I said quickly. "There's no

in his voice that chilled me. "Don't worry, Chloe. I'll

the bottle and poured the liquid into the water. As the blue

disappearing without a trace. I

quickened. "What... what is

a sharp, searing pain shot up

"Ah!"

part of my skin that touched the water felt like a thousand needles pricking my

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