Chapter 64

[Sorry, Grace. I love you.]

To say "I love you" while telling someone to die. I felt so sorry for that woman, to the point of pity.

Would that foolish woman, who would immediately be found out for faking illness, have swallowed the poison obediently if it had safely landed in her hands, as the cowardly fiancé had ordered?

His mouth was bitter. Leon took a cigar from the black box on the desk and put it in his mouth.

"And here is this week's Winsford base activity report."

Nodding to Campbell, who placed the surveillance report on the desk, Leon continued his thoughts.

Engaging in a betrothal with an untrustworthy woman...

I have one more thing I want to talk about with that guy.

* * *

"Hah..."

Grace wiped the sweat that had formed on her forehead with her wrist. Her hands were so covered in gray dust that their original color was no longer visible.

"Shall we stop here and continue in the evening?"

Putting down the tool she was holding, she picked up the broom and dustpan. Just as she was sweeping the gray fragments and dust on the floor into the toilet and flushing them away,

Click.

The sound of the lock on the iron door outside the bathroom being opened was heard.

'Why so soon! It's not even 2 PM yet!'

Grace hurriedly put the tool in a crevice and stuck the panel she had leaned against the wall back in place. As she put the dustpan into the bucket for cleaning tools in the corner of the bathroom, she heard footsteps quickly approaching from the torture room.

'Hands!'

She rushed to the sink and turned on the water. Just as she was about to put her dust-covered hands under the cold water, Winston appeared at the bathroom entrance.

"Come out."

His gaze was on Grace's face, not the gray dust being washed away.

'Hah... I almost got caught.'

Grace washed her hands and face with soap to get rid of any suspicious smell, and only after thoroughly cleaning the dust from her body did she go out.

"It's already 2 PM?"

Even though she knew it wasn't 2 PM, she mumbled in a sulky tone while trying to unbutton her gray blouse, but Winston shook his head and grabbed her hand.

It wasn't just that he had come earlier than usual and told her not to take off her clothes.

The fact that he was letting her out of the torture room was strange.

How long had it been? She was sure it was the first time since her arrest.

'Could I be being transferred?'

Her heart raced as they started climbing the stairs, passing the iron bars in the basement.

The last time she had deliberately bitten her tongue and spat out blood, it was discovered, and she was severely punished. However, the punishment was milder than before, perhaps because Winston was quite shocked by the incident.

In the end, it was this man who had been tamed.

Did he finally lose interest and decide to hand her over to headquarters?

However, the main gate on the first floor was firmly closed, contrary to her expectations. Winston continued to lead Grace up the stairs.

Was the hope of being released going to crumble so easily?

'No. Not yet.'

There might be officers from headquarters in the office.

The annex was as quiet as a ghost house. No one was around as Winston led her up to the second floor.

In the empty corridor, only dust floated in the sunlight. How long had it been since she last felt the sun?

She stopped involuntarily in the warm sunlight, but a tall figure blocked the window and Grace, trapping her back in Winston's gloomy shadow.

His arm wrapped around Grace's waist like a thick rope, urging her forward.

"Why are you sweating so much?"

He must have felt that her blouse was soaked with sweat. Grace made up an excuse.

"I was cleaning."

His eyes, looking down at her, said, "You actually did it seriously?"

The one who should be disappointed was Grace. Was he waiting for her to beg for a maid to clean? She was already in a pitiful state, begging him for many things, and she had no intention of begging for such a trivial matter.

Her hopes were dashed again. The place Winston led her to was not the office but a guest bedroom.

'Could he be planning to do it here today? Maybe he's moving the prison here.'

Then she might be able to escape through the window. She harbored hope again, but it was quickly dashed.

'Who is it?'

As the door opened, a middle-aged woman she didn't know stood up from a chair by the window. The woman, apparently nervous, forced a smile and greeted them. Stiff with shock at the unexpected situation, Grace was pushed into the bedroom by Winston.

There was no introduction.

"Let's start."

From the woman's action of picking up a medical bag from the table at Winston's command, Grace deduced that she was a doctor.

'I'm not sick.'

She had rope marks and bruises from Winston's lips all over her body, but he wouldn't have called a doctor for that. Feeling a foreboding sense of dread, Grace turned pale and even paler when the doctor gave her an instruction.

"Take off your bloomers and lie down on the bed."

She turned to look at Winston with wide eyes. He was expressionless, as if he had expected such an order. Grace asked the doctor instead of the unresponsive man.

"What are you doing?"

But the doctor didn't answer, looking awkwardly at her back, waiting for Winston's cue.

"Do as the doctor says."

"No, I need to know what's going on."

When Grace resisted, Winston sent the doctor out for a moment.

"What are you planning to do to me?"

Grace's voice trembled slightly.

"It's nothing serious, and you're not sick. Just do as you're told."

The more he said that, the more frightened Grace became. As she backed away, Winston picked her up and threw her on the bed.

"Ah! Let go!"

"I can read your punches like a book now."

He easily overpowered the struggling Grace and skillfully undid the garter belt holding her stockings. As her bloomers were pulled off, Grace resisted with all her might.

"No. Stop!"

"Do you want to be tied up in front of the doctor? Or should I put a gun in your mouth? If you want to finish quickly, be still."

In the end, she had no choice but to be 'still.' Lying on the bed with her knees up and legs spread wide, Grace breathed heavily in frustration.

The doctor, sitting at the end of the bed, lifted her skirt and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Grace, knowing the marks of violent intercourse on her thighs, bit her lip and turned her gaze away.

"It might be a little cold."

At those words, Grace looked up in horror. The doctor was trying to insert a metallic funnel-like object between her legs.

"What are you doing? Stop it!"

"It won't hurt, so don't worry."

The doctor smiled kindly, saying that all patients were scared at first, but it did nothing to reassure her. As she tried to push it away by lifting her hips, Winston's large hand pressed down on her lower abdomen.

"Ugh..."

The strange object slowly entered between her immobilized legs.

It's cold.

The coldness soon passed, but the foreign sensation remained unsettling. The feeling of the instrument spreading inside and widening the passage was even frightening.

After inserting the strange instrument into Grace's vagina, the doctor took a long metal box from his bag. While the doctor was preparing something, Winston, who had been standing with his arms crossed, suddenly bent over. His gaze was on Grace's legs.

How amused must he be? He can clearly see the hole I've been penetrating every day.

Winston, looking into her vagina with interest, smiled when their eyes met and said,

"Our darling has no ugly spots."

The doctor, who was taking something out of the metal box, raised his eyebrows. It was embarrassing to hear such words and even more so to pretend to be lovers and kiss in front of others.

What came out of the box was a long clamp. The doctor picked up a hemisphere from the box with the clamp and inserted it into her body, pressing the concave side against Grace, and repeated this a few times, changing the size of the hemisphere. It seemed he was measuring the size of something inside her vagina.

Grace, who had never been to a gynecologist, had no idea what this bizarre procedure was for.

It was true that it didn't hurt. As her tension eased and her rationality returned, she realized this might be an opportunity to escape from him.