The night stretched on, an eternity of pain and suffering. By morning, Lita lay on the bed, a broken figure. Her body was a canvas of bruises, her neck a patchwork of fresh, bleeding bite marks.
She could barely move, her limbs aching, her spirit shattered. Tears, dried and stained on her face, told a silent story of her ordeal.
Prince Daniel, his gaze cold and calculating, surveyed the scene with a smirk of satisfaction. He leaned closer, his breath warm on her ear, "That's it... All helpless... I hope you enjoy your consequences..." He purred, his voice dripping with malice.
He had broken her, not just physically, but emotionally, a cruel victory that fueled his twisted sense of power.
"Don't worry... You'll heal soon," he chuckled brutally, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. He didn't care about her pain, her brokenness. He was a master puppeteer, and she, his broken doll, was simply a plaything in his cruel game.
He fixed his appearance, smoothed his clothes, his composure a facade of normalcy that masked the monster he truly was. He left the room, leaving Lita to her wounds, her despair, her helplessness.
He was gone, but the chilling memory of his cruelty lingered, a dark shadow that would haunt her for the rest of her days.
Lita, lost in a labyrinth of despair, allowed her tears to flow freely once more. They flowed like a river, a constant stream of pain, a testament to the devastation she felt. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling, her thoughts a tangled web of confusion and betrayal.
"Is this what you wanted, Vanessa?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her words a desperate cry for understanding, for an answer to the riddle that consumed her.
The pain, the helplessness, the crushing weight of her situation - all pointed back to Vanessa, her rival, her tormentor, the architect of her misery.
"Is this what you wanted all along... How could you do this to me, Vanessa?" The words echoed in Lita's heart, a silent scream of anguish. The tears flowed freely, a torrent of grief and betrayal, washing over her like a tidal wave. Vanessa's image, her face, her voice, haunted her, a constant reminder of the betrayal, the manipulation, the calculated cruelty that had brought her to this point.
She couldn't understand, couldn't fathom, how someone she thought she knew, someone she'd once considered a friend, could orchestrate such a devastating betrayal. The pain, the agony, was unbearable, a heavy weight that threatened to crush her spirit.
"Those nobles... those gossips... the whispers... Vanessa's cruel voice... the words of that disgusting crown prince... those tortures... Fuck them all." Lita's heart echoed the sentiment, a venomous whisper of defiance against the forces that had broken her.
She was a woman stripped bare, her dignity violated, her spirit battered, yet within her, a spark of resistance flickered, a desperate fight for survival.
She might be broken, but she was not defeated. She would not allow them, the nobles, the whispers, the cruelty, to define her.
She would rise again, stronger, more determined, and she would make them all pay for what they had done.