My Devotion for Your Love

The night wind was cool, rustling the leaves, the abandoned factory in the suburbs no longer bore signs of struggle. Sarah held a knife in her hand, the tip stained with Cheryls blood, drop by drop.

"Sarah, I curse you, you will never be happy, you and Hans will never be together."

Blood trickled from Cheryls mouth, the dazzling red piercing Sarahs eyes painfully. After speaking, Cheryl fell powerlessly into a pool of blood, lifeless.

Sarah knelt on the ground, the sound of police sirens growing closer. Suddenly, the night lights were blinding, and Hans stood at the door, walking towards her with a cold tone.

"Did you kill her?"

"Mm-hmm."

She did not deny it.

The coldness from the soles of her feet spread, chilling her as she shrank back.

Its all over, she understood.

Three years later...

"Thud."

Sarah winced in pain before realizing she had drunk too much and hit the toilet.

She stood up with the help of the wall, her head dizzy, her stomach terribly empty.

Sarah knew clearly that even though she had come out of prison, she had not escaped the nightmare of three years ago.

Because God wouldnt give her a chance to start over; as soon as she got out, she was oppressed by Hans to work as a hostess at a bar under the Thompson family.

The people in the private room had already left, but under the dim light, one person still sat there, a figure Sarah would never forget in her lifetime.

Hans Thompson. Didnt he hate her to death? Why would he come to such a place on purpose?

"Are you mute?" Hans looked at her coldly.

Sarah didnt answer, sat down on the sofa, and kept silent. Hans was angry, and if she spoke at this moment, it might provoke him even more.

"Miss Sarah, is this how you usually accompany guests?" Hans looked at Sarah, who was sitting a bit far from him, and got angry for no reason.

"What kind of torture do you want to inflict on me, just say it." Sarah looked into Hans eyes and said lightly.

"Ha, torture?" Hans suddenly didnt like the feeling of being seen through, and pushed her onto the sofa: "I just want to see how low you can stoop for that wild man!"

"Have you seen it?" Sarah sneered.

Forcing her to be a hostess, allowing other men to insult her, yet being ruthless to the men who dared to touch her body, there might not be a more contradictory man in the world than Hans.

"Not enough!" Hans roared with red eyes, "Dont think this is enough, you hurt Cheryl, do you think I will let you go so easily?"

Hans eyes almost burst into sparks, pinching Sarahs chin, word by word: "As long as you tell me where the wild man is, I will let you go."

"You can still torture me." Sarahs tone was calm, her eyes red and full of tears.

Hans was surprised, slightly pleased, but then furious, and suddenly pinched her neck hard: "You are really affectionate to that wild man."

Sarah coughed "cough cough" twice, the mans hand was too tight, not giving her a chance to speak.

"You can only be mine, no one else can touch you!" Hans whispered in her ear, his fingers brushed over her skirt, penetrated her last layer of disguise, and pulled it down!