Chapter Eighty-Seven: So You Like It Rough An extra update in thanks to those who sent tourmaline diamonds.

Someone whistled. He came to grab me, but I did not move. When his arm reached out in front of me, I seized it with swift, precise force.

There was a sharp crack, and he collapsed onto the others, his arm hanging limp.

Only after a moment did the others realize his arm had been dislocated. Then they came at me as well, and one of them pulled out a knife.

He looked like he knew how to fight. Before I could even react, the blade was already pressed against my waist.

There were too many of them. There was no way I could dislocate each of their arms or jaws one by one. The bar’s layout was complicated, and I searched for a way to break free.

Most of the crowd had been drawn away by the pole dancer, and no one noticed what was happening on our side. Brother Wu was helped onto the sofa.

Sweat pouring down his face, he looked at me and gave a rough chuckle. “Little junior sister, you like it rough, do you?”

For a moment I did not understand what he meant. Then he nodded, and at once someone bound my hands and feet, stuffed a gag into my mouth, carried me upstairs, and threw me onto the big bed in a private room.

I heard one of them ask, “Brother Wu’s arm is dislocated. Can he still manage? Maybe we should enjoy ourselves first?”

Another snapped, “Are you trying to die? You dare touch a woman Brother Wu has set his sights on?”

“No, brother, just look at this little beauty—soft-skinned, full of curves. Don’t you want her too? How long has it been since we last had a woman?”

While the two hesitated, the door was pushed open, and Brother Wu was helped inside, swaying on his feet.

His arm had already been set. He came up to me, slapped my backside, then pulled a thick wad of pink bills from his pocket and tossed them to the others. “Go on, get out of here. Don’t stand in the way of my enjoyment.”

The one who had carried me in grinned lecherously. “Brother Wu, this girl is really fiery. Once you’re done with her, could you let the brothers have a turn too?”

Brother Wu laughed. “You all saw it yourselves. If you don’t want your little brother dislocated too, then once I’m finished enjoying myself, I’ll pass her on to you.”

The others left in a chorus of snickers. I struggled, pressed against the wall, making muffled sounds through the gag.

Brother Wu sat on the edge of the bed. At first he just looked at me and smiled, and that smile sent a chill through me.

I knew I had run into a sick bastard tonight, and sure enough, he soon grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the wall.

It hurt terribly, but I could not even cry out.

He yanked me down to the floor, climbed on top of me, and struck me from both sides in a flurry of slaps.

I had heard that a good horse is ridden by others, but I had never heard of a good person being ridden by others.

He was clearly not satisfied with tormenting me like that. Soon he showed an even more twisted side.

He turned on his phone, set it in front of the television, and came over to undo my clothes.

Whenever I struggled even a little, he slapped me across the face.

Before long he had stripped off my skirt. When I was left in only my underwear, and he reached to unfasten my bra, I gathered every ounce of strength I had left, threw my head up, and smashed it into his face.

The blow sent him reeling back, blood gushing from his nose and across his face.

I scrambled backward desperately, fighting with all my strength to get away.

But once he recovered, he grabbed me again. This time he viciously tore my bra apart, dragged me toward the camera, and smiled obscenely. “Little junior sister, I advise you not to struggle. The more you struggle, the more excited your senior brother gets.”

He grabbed my skirt, tied me against the coffee table, then stripped off his own clothes, took up the phone, and stood naked before me.

I heard my phone ringing. Tears fell silently from my eyes. In that moment, I thought: why has fate never favored me, not even for thirty seconds?

Why does fate always stand coldly in the corner, watching me struggle, watching me cry?

He pressed his whole body against mine, raised the phone to take pictures, and bit my earlobe as he asked, “Little junior sister, don’t worry. Senior brother will take very good care of you. Do you like it from the front, or from behind?”

I kept shaking my head, trembling nonstop, begging him again and again. But only I knew what I was saying. Only I knew what it felt like to accept my fate.