One of Sebastian Gray’s companions suddenly looked terrified.

He whispered urgently, “Mr. Gray, that suit she’s wearing… it looks custom-tailored. Only Ethan Blackwood would own something like that. Do you think… she might be connected to him?”

Sebastian hesitated, his grip on Isabella loosening slightly.

Seizing the slim chance, Isabella stammered out, “I’m… Ethan’s wife… please, just let me go…”

Sebastian let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh.

His eyes glinted with mockery.

“Wife? Since when did Ethan Blackwood get married? I think I would’ve heard. His one true love is back—Sophia Reed is the only woman he’ll ever marry. Who are you to claim that title?”

He ripped the suit jacket off her shoulders and tossed it aside contemptuously.

“You’re not talking your way out of this one.”

The fine fabric landed in a grimy puddle on the ground.

The faint, familiar scent of Ethan’s cologne clung to the air—a cruel contrast to the filth around them.

Deep down, Isabella knew there was no escaping what came next.

Sebastian grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her ruthlessly toward the entrance of the Midnight Lounge.

Despair shadowed her eyes.

Her struggles were useless; her cries went unheard.

The pulsing music from inside the bar felt like it was coming from another world.

One of Sebastian’s men secretly snapped a photo of the discarded jacket.

He quickly messaged Benjamin Clark: “Is this Mr. Blackwood’s suit? A woman who says she’s his wife was just taken into the Midnight Lounge by Sebastian Gray.”

A sly smile touched his lips.

Whether she was really connected to Ethan or not, this was his chance to gain favor.

Benjamin immediately forwarded the message to Ethan.

Inside a dimly lit room, heavy perfume hung in the air.

Isabella was tied tightly to a bed decorated with romantic motifs.

The ropes cut into her wrists and ankles, holding her completely still.

No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t break free.

“Do you prefer it rough or gentle?” Sebastian sneered, pulling several whips from a nearby cabinet.

He moved closer, a cruel smile on his face.

Tears of fury burned in Isabella’s eyes.

“You’re a monster! Let me go!” she screamed.

If looks could kill, he would have been torn apart.

Sebastian’s grin only widened.

“Feisty. I like that,” he said casually, pinning her down against the bed.

The sound of fabric rustling broke the tense silence.

“No!” Isabella’s cry was raw with panic and despair.

She tried to push him away, to fight back, but she was utterly overpowered.

Sebastian savored her helplessness, enjoying it like a predator with its trapped prey.

He leaned in, attempting to kiss her neck.

In that split second, Isabella saw her opportunity.

Gathering every ounce of strength, she sank her teeth deep into his ear.

“Ah!” Sebastian roared in pain, clutching his ear as blood streamed through his fingers.

He touched the wound—a piece was missing.

Blinded by rage and pain, he snatched a whip.

“You bitch! You’re dead!” he snarled, bringing the lash down brutally across her body.

Isabella cried out as searing pain exploded across her skin.

He struck her again and again, each blow carving fresh lines of agony.

As the torture continued, her mind began to fog over.

Her cries weakened into faint whimpers.

Soon, she could barely make a sound.

Overwhelmed by relentless pain, Isabella slowly lost consciousness.

A soft moan escaped her lips as her eyelids fluttered weakly.