The bedroom inside the yacht was small. It was barely fifteen square meters.
After a few dodges, Haley was caught. The man wrapped his hands around her throat and slammed her back onto the bed.
“Mmph!”
She thrashed weakly, but his grip was iron-tight. Her airway was blocked, her face flushing deep red from the lack of oxygen. Her brain was starting to shut down, her vision blurring at the edges.
But the man had no intention of killing her. He wasn’t interested in a corpse.
He kept his grip firm, his face inches from hers as he snarled, “You and Emma look so damn alike—but you? You’re the feisty one. Don’t know when to back down. Don’t know how to please a man.”
He grinned. “But that’s what makes taming a wild one like you all the more fun. Don’t you think?”
Haley's lungs screamed for air. Her body was seconds away from giving out.
Just when she thought she was done for, he finally let go.
Air rushed into her nose, sharp and painful. She wanted to cough, but her mouth was
