RURO Chapter 25

Russian Roulette /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

CHAPTER 25

A wave of terror crashed over her.

She could die here.

There had been a time when she had thought about dying, when she had even wanted it. But not now. Not when she could still live. Not when the path to survival lay so clearly before her.

One day, a peaceful life had been promised to her.

She refused to wither away like a dying plant, shriveling up until there was nothing left. She couldn’t afford to keep rejecting the one thing that would keep her alive—Guiding, contact, even if it meant surrendering to the man who ruled the underworld.

The thought of touching Vicente repulsed her.

But if she didn’t… she would die.

And then what? What would happen to her body? Would his men simply burn it, treating her as nothing more than a nameless casualty?

You can endure this, Tessa.

You’ve survived far worse.

She repeated the words like a mantra, forcing strength into her limbs despite her blurred vision. But the more she struggled, the worse the pain became.

She had to call for Vicente.

Her lips parted, but before she could make a sound, the world around her suddenly brightened. For a second, she thought she was hallucinating.

Then she saw him.

It wasn’t an illusion. Someone had pulled back the shower curtain.

And there, standing before her, was the only person who could save her.

Something about seeing him made her vision sharpen for the briefest moment, as if piercing through the fog.

It was the same as that time. The time she had looked up at him after taking a bullet.

A perfect man, impeccably dressed, gazing down at his Sentinel with cold indifference.

And her—his Sentinel, lying helpless, a complete wreck.

Their roles were painfully clear.

It was almost funny.

Vicente, ever composed, pushed back his dark hair and perched himself on the edge of the bathtub, staring down at her.

His expression was unreadable.

Was he annoyed? Bored?

That would be bad. He couldn’t lose interest in her—not now.

“I nearly forgot,” he murmured.

“You were never just dealing with a hangover, were you?”

Tessa felt the crushing weight of her own mistake.

She could have asked him for guiding last night. She could have swallowed her pride and avoided this situation entirely. But instead, she had let her stubbornness get the best of her.

This was her fault.

Vicente was as arrogant and untouchable as ever. He had made it clear from the start—unless she asked, he wouldn’t do a thing for her.

Even now, he was waiting, watching, silently demanding that she speak first.

Why had she ever tried to hold on to pride in front of the ruler of Saint Leroi?

I have to survive.

That’s the whole reason I’ve endured this long.

“I need you.”

Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, but at her words, Vicente’s eyes narrowed.

She could tell what he was thinking.

That’s not enough. Beg harder.

“I’ll do my best…”

“For what?”

“For… anything. I’ll try to satisfy you.”

Her voice faded into nothing as she spoke the last words.

Because the truth was, she wasn’t sure if she could.

She had no experience—none of this had ever been natural to her. The first man who had ever seen her bare body was Vicente.

But that didn’t matter.

She had to do whatever it took.

She had to be ready.

“Say what you need properly.”

His voice struck her skin like a blade, soft yet freezing.

It was like being doused in lukewarm water—warm for a fleeting second before turning ice-cold.

“If you keep speaking in circles, how am I supposed to know what you need?”

Liar.

He already knew.

He knew exactly what she needed.

As a C-rank Sentinel, her ability to recover was pitiful at best. Add to that the fact that she had spent over a decade surviving on garbage supplements, and it was no wonder she was in this state. For her to truly stabilize, she would need days of proper guiding.

But that would only make things worse.

It would turn into a habit.

Vicente leaned in, studying her up close.

Tessa, helpless and trembling. His new little plaything.

She probably didn’t realize it herself, but he found her more interesting by the second.

He took hold of her chin, forcing her violet eyes to lock onto his.

She shivered.

She had no idea what kind of things happened when a woman looked like that, half-naked and vulnerable.

She had no idea what those eyes, that expression, did to a man.

Of course, she wouldn’t.

Even when she was pinned beneath him, crying, she sometimes did things that drove him mad—without even realizing it.

Vicente loosened his tie with one hand, still watching her.

Even with her bare chest exposed, wearing such a sorrowful expression. Even as she lay pitifully in the bathtub, helpless and weak.

If it had been some pathetic ploy, it would have annoyed him. But the fact that it wasn’t—that was what made it so enjoyable.

“How does it feel?”

His voice was as gentle as ever, but the hand gripping her chin was anything but.

“I’m asking how it feels to beg for meat like a starving dog.”

For Tessa, every second stretched into an eternity.

Every moment with Vicente was like that.

But before she could answer, he spoke again.

“I want you to become even more miserable in front of me, Tessa. That way, the game gets even more entertaining.”

“…What?”

“When I think about how the government’s prized little hound is now whimpering under me—I start wondering how much more desperate you can get. How you’ll look when you’re writhing in pain, tears running down your face.”

He traced his thumb along Tessa’s pale, trembling cheek.

His low, gentle voice filled the bathroom, wrapping around her like a velvet noose.

“But I suppose I shouldn’t, should I? You’re my precious Sentinel, after all.”

With that, Vicente finally released her face. Instead, he extended his right hand toward her—large, strong, the bone structure prominent beneath his skin.

“Go on. Lick.”

And that was exactly what she needed.

It didn’t matter if it was his hand or anything else. Vicente was the only one who could save her.

“It’s something delicious, isn’t it?”

But instead of grabbing onto him, she hesitated, her uncertainty plain in her expression.

A clever, obedient little dog.

When she still couldn’t bring herself to take the final step, Vicente, satisfied, reached out and stroked her damp hair.

“Good girl, Tessa.”

Tessa squeezed her eyes shut at the way he treated her like a mere beast. The humiliation was unbearable, made worse by the fact that she wasn’t even clothed. It truly made her feel like she had become an animal.

No… Was there even a difference at this point?

Her body couldn’t even function properly without his touch. She had to beg—on her knees, no less—just for the privilege of being handled. What kind of human being lived like that?

“Get out. You can at least manage to walk to the bed, can’t you?”

With that, Vicente left the bathroom, leaving her behind.

For a brief moment, she was alone, shaking violently as she forced her body to move. Her head pounded with a relentless ache, but she had to endure it.

She barely avoided collapsing as she stepped out of the tub.

One careful step at a time, she made her way toward the bed.

When she finally reached it, she saw Vicente sitting there, watching her.

As she approached, he undid his belt and pulled out his length.

Tessa froze, flinching instinctively.

He let out a low chuckle.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

Vicente kept his eyes fixed on Tessa as he gripped himself, moving slowly. A low breath escaped his lips, his brows furrowing slightly as his length hardened, growing steadily in his hand.

Tessa had felt it between her legs before. The moment she recalled the sensation of being stretched and filled, heat surged through her body, making her ache in anticipation.

“Come sit.”

He tapped his thigh, signaling her. She wasn’t naive enough to misunderstand what he meant.

Cautiously, she climbed onto his lap.

The moment she settled, she could feel his rigid length pressing insistently against her most sensitive spot.

She saw the shift in his expression—the lazy, half-lidded gaze of a man indulging in his own desires. Compared to her, he was utterly at ease.

“Move on your own. Show me how much you want it, and I’ll play along.”

Tears pricked at her eyes.

Just moments ago, she had thought she could do this. But now, completely bare and straddling him, something inside her felt like it was crumbling.

An instinctual urge clawed at her.

A desperate need to take him in.

The realization struck her like a slap.

She was aroused by Vicente Zermo.

The very thought of it was sickening, yet she wanted it. She wanted him inside, wanted to feel that overwhelming pleasure again.

It’s just instinct. This isn’t me…

As if reading her mind, Vicente ran his fingers through her hair, his voice curling against her ear.

“You can’t possibly still be in denial.”

Tessa let out a shaky breath, unable to suppress the soft sound that slipped past her lips.

“Hnn…”

“I know exactly what you’re thinking, Tessa.”