He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 117

The words slipped from Sienna's mouth, light and airy, yet they instantly froze the amused smirk on Cillian's lips.

He narrowed his eyes, his unfathomable gaze slowly raking over her.

The woman standing before him looked completely drained of color, fragile enough to be blown away by a stiff breeze.

"At my disposal?"

Cillian stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow that completely engulfed her. The aggressive scent of tobacco and sharp cologne wrapped around her senses.

"No matter what I ask of you?"

"Yes," she answered without a hint of hesitation.

"Be the bait in my underground fight club for three days," he offered his first condition.

"Fine."

"Be my date to the black-market auction next month."

"Alright."

Watching her agree without a second thought, a flicker of dark intrigue danced in Cillian's eyes.

"What if I make you strip and beg for my mercy?"

His voice dropped low, dripping with intentional degradation.

Sienna didn't even blink.

"I can do that."

Cillian's brow twitched imperceptibly.

The bodyguards standing behind him breathed a little heavier, staring at Sienna with undisguised greed and mockery.

Sienna finally reacted, lifting her chin to meet his malicious stare dead-on.

There was no fear or shame in her eyes. They remained as eerily calm as stagnant water, as if the person agreeing to this horrific humiliation wasn't even her.

"As long as you let me go today," she said casually.

"And promise that for the next fifteen days, you will not appear in front of me or interfere with my life in any way. If you agree, I accept your terms."

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