Meanwhile, he heated the pot, added the shredded potatoes, stir-fried them a few times, pressed them into a potato cake, and flipped it over to fry until both sides turned golden brown.
He placed small chunks of butter at the edge of the pot, letting it melt slowly, filling the air with a fragrant aroma. He grated cheese, sprinkled it over the fried potato cake, and then placed it in the oven. He opened a can of beef and poured it onto a plate.
“Small peeler,” he extended a hand toward her.
Her heart raced several times faster. She fished out the small knife from her pocket, the very one she had just hidden. How could he notice that one small knife among so many utensils? “I-I wanted to use it to peel apples,” she stammered, lips trembling as she explained.
“Baby, even for killing, you need the right tools. If you can’t even peel potatoes, what do you want a knife for…” He said this while taking out the golden potato cake from the oven and placing it on the table. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to taste my cooking?”
After taking a bite of the potato cake, he found it delicious, but Nhanyi had no mind to savor it. She felt anxious inside; clearly, he didn’t believe her that she had hidden the knife just to peel fruit. They never peeled fruit when eating.
She stole a glance at him, only to see him enjoying his meal, finishing the entire can of beef without leaving a trace, seemingly having forgotten what had just happened. Nhanyi lowered her head; the most terrifying thing about this man was that every time she offended him, he wouldn’t immediately show his displeasure. Instead, he appeared very forgiving, waiting until later to settle the score, retaliating even more harshly.
“How is it? Tasty?”
She nodded absently, quickly stuffing a small piece of potato cake into her mouth before getting up to wash the dishes.
Suddenly, he hugged her from behind. The plate slipped from her hands and fell into the sink, the faucet still running, the sound of water splashing loudly.
One arm tightly wrapped around her waist, he turned off the faucet with the other hand. “What do you want to do with this little knife?” He didn’t know when he had the knife in his hand, swiftly pressing the tip against her neck, the sharp point piercing the skin under her jaw, drawing tiny beads of blood. “No—!”
“Here, if this continues, cutting your throat and the arteries in your neck will make blood spray out and suffocate you to death,” he held the knife, measuring it against her rapidly rising chest, “Here, stabbing your heart will cause instant death.”
She was still afraid of dying… She was truly afraid of dying. “Please, I really didn’t mean to.”
“Do you want me to forgive you?” He sneered coldly, like a judge from the underworld, showing no mercy. “There’s another way that won’t let you die immediately but will make you bleed to death slowly.” He moved the knife hand under her skirt and suddenly raised his hand.
“Ah—!” She closed her eyes and let out a terrified scream.
Fortunately, the blade was facing her, and he didn’t actually let the knife hurt her. “That place is still reserved for me.” He smiled wickedly, then with a clang, threw the knife onto the table and turned to go upstairs. Nhanyi’s tears froze on her cheeks as she leaned against the wall, her body slowly sinking down until she collapsed onto the cold basement floor, trembling as she touched her neck, her fingertips stained with a bit of blood, no longer having the courage to take that knife.
In the following days, Nhanyi was on edge every night, not daring to sleep at all. This tortured her, leaving her sleep-deprived and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She could only take short naps when he left during the day. Abigail naturally wouldn’t let her be at peace; only when she was bathing could she lock the door and enjoy a moment of tranquility.
Nhanyi stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, her white body marred by several wounds on her neck, arms, and ankles. She had once been so pure and whole, her body and skin given to her by her parents.
She had been their precious daughter, a delicate young lady, but now she could not control her own body. She wanted to commit suicide but couldn’t muster the courage.
When the gun barrel and knife blade were aimed at her, she surrendered on her knees. He was exploiting her weakness, seeing through her fear of death, conquering her inner terror. But what had she done wrong? She was just an ordinary girl, not a strong warrior. Nhanyi hugged her knees, curling up in the bathtub, and began to cry uncontrollably.
