The pain of having your fingernails ripped off was so excruciating, just watching it made your own fingers throb in sympathy.

Queenie stared in terror, frozen and speechless, her mouth open but not a sound coming out.

Aurora's screams echoed through the room.

The torment didn't stop there. After tearing off Aurora's nails, the captors poured salt water and sprinkled chili powder over her raw fingertips.

Queenie couldn't fathom how these foreigners came up with such vicious, sadistic methods.

Next, seemingly out of nowhere, they produced a writhing mass of snakes and dumped them onto Aurora's body.

No matter how strong Aurora's nerves were, no matter how privileged her upbringing, nothing had prepared her for this nightmare. She'd grown up pampered and admired, never once imagining she'd be subjected to this kind of horror.

But her tormentors were just getting started.

They had only promised not to kill or permanently injure Aurora-never that they wouldn't make her suffer.

After all, oil tycoons and financiers were waiting for their proof of life video.

Then someone had a wicked idea. "We can't hurt her too badly, and we can't lay a finger on her, but we can still make her life hell. Isn't she supposed to be the most beautiful woman in high society?"

Another chimed in, grinning. "Let's shave her head and her eyebrows. Let's see how a bald, browless 'queen of the elite' holds up."

"Oh, brilliant. That's perfect."

hair until her scalp gleamed. Even stripped of her long locks, Aurora's striking features still shone through—she was beautiful,


she realized the kidnappers had no intention of turning their attention to her,

break Aurora's arms or legs, either. Queenie's

Williams family, and the powerful men who

just an act of humiliation-an ugly prank, rather than outright

now, Aurora was

numb. Her face

pale her

as her

their cruel

never experienced such utter humiliation. The feeling made her want to scream, to claw

some reason, her mind flashed

this what Stella had felt when Leonard tortured her? Was the despair this

came to, everything was pitch


over her eyes. She struggled and found her

was,

memory was sitting in her favorite café, sipping coffee. After that—

once: she'd

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