"Stop." Beverly moved her hands in the dark, making the word with sign language. Her fingers shook as she tried to tell him to stop, but Diro couldn't see her signs. Or maybe he could see them and just didn't care. His body pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. Three years. Three whole years of this, and her heart still beat fast with fear every time he touched her with those cold hands. The expensive silk sheets felt rough against her skin. She lived in this fancy house, married to one of the most powerful men in the city, but she was dying inside little by little. "If you don't want this, then talk," Diro said in a mean voice. "Open your mouth and scream. Tell me you don't want it." His words hurt worse than a slap. Beverly's chest got tight and she couldn't breathe properly. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew she couldn't speak, couldn't scream, couldn't say no out loud. Her hands moved quickly in the dark, signing desperately. Please, Diro. Please stop. B
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