Chapter 1 Raped in Front of Fiancé

Willette's hands were tied behind her back and a blindfold covered her eyes.

　　She was roughly pushed and shoved, not knowing how far they had gone before stopping. The air was filled with a damp, pungent odor and a faint hint of blood.

　　Someone pushed her to the ground and removed the blindfold. Willette blinked her sore eyes and took in her surroundings.

　　She was in an underground interrogation room divided by floor-to-ceiling glass.

　　The hanging lamp above swayed precariously and emitted an annoying creaking sound. Behind the glass was an iron chair, and a young man dressed in military uniform was locked in it.

　　His once neatly combed black hair was now messy and covered his smooth forehead.He had a pair of thick, cold eyes that resembled the black diamond necklace on Willette's neck.

　　Willette subconsciously called out, "Lanchester..."

　　"Lanchester Leonard." Another cynical male voice called out the prisoner's full name.

　　"The First Prince of the West Sea is really unlucky. You could even get attacked and captured while patrolling the border with your fiancé."

　　Willette turned her head to see the man behind her, but before she could see his face, he grabbed her by the roots of her hair.

　　His hard military boots pressed against her lower back as if to crush her abdomen, squeezing her internal organs into a pulp.

　　Under the man's malicious pull, Willette had to raise her head, revealing her fragile swan-like neck.

　　"Look at your fiancé, how pitiful she is."

　　He chuckled and breathed into Willette's ear, his hot and humid breath tickling her eardrum, frivolous and intimate.

　　"She's the famous flower of the West Sea, praised by all the wandering poets for her beauty. All the dirty and vulgar men want to taste her flavor."

　　"Lanchester, what do you think if I throw her into the military camp? There are only Tuso people outside of this interrogation room. They haven't touched a woman in three months, and they're so hungry that they can make love to their scabbards."

　　Lanchester, sitting on the iron chair, just raised his eyes at the remark.

　　The First Prince of the West Sea was a cold and arrogant man. Even as a prisoner, he still stood straight with an expressionless face.

　　Only the greenish-blue bruise on his mouth hinted at the violence he had suffered earlier.

　　"What do you want?" he asked.

　　The man behind Willette smiled and forcefully lifted her chin, inserting a finger between her lips and teeth to stir.

　　The movement was particularly rough, almost tearing the corners of Willette's mouth.

　　She tried to dodge, but the man became more and more aggressive, directly grabbing her restless tongue and imitating thrusting.

　　"Umm... let me go..."

　　Willette said incoherently, her white jade-like cheeks turning a shameful shade of red. Saliva uncontrollably spilled out, flowing down her chin onto her undulating chest.

　　"I want the territory of Wind Frost Mountain Range and Ontario Castle," the man who was insulting her said casually, "it's not much, Your Highness, give them to me, and I will naturally let you return to your country safely."

　　Willette's entire body tensed up.

　　She knew very well that these areas were critical border checkpoints, and if given up, the neighboring country Seragon could easily invade and consume a large amount of land and people in West Sea.

　　But if Lanchester refused to agree, she would fall into the most miserable situation. She would be humiliated, abused, and left with nothing...

　　Then she heard Lanchester's calm and indifferent words.

　　"It's impossible. Marco Streller, you won't get anything from me."

　　Willette's breathing stopped.

　　She felt the temperature of her hands and feet constantly dropping, and her abdomen, which was under heavy pressure, twitching with pain.

　　There was a burst of mocking laughter in the interrogation room. The man named Marco removed his fingers and no longer played with Willette's tongue. Instead, he tore open her shirt with force.

　　The cloth covering her chest was so thin that it could hardly withstand a blow.

　　After being torn apart, the delicate and soft flesh of her breasts was exposed to the cold air, the tender red nipples trembling, looking so pitiful.

　　Willette let out a low cry and wanted to cover her exposed chest.

　　But her hands were still tied behind her waist.

　　"Don't... don't do this..."

　　Her voice trembled uncontrollably. There were only two people in the interrogation room, her fiancé Lanchester, who was locked in a chair, and Marco who was inflicting the abuse.

　　She couldn't see Marco's appearance, but she could feel him cutting her skirt into shreds with a blade. And her fiancé sat behind the glass window, just looking at her with calm and cold eyes.

　　"Lanchester, Lanchester!" Willette was trembling all over, "Save..."

　　She only managed to utter one syllable and could no longer say a complete sentence.

　　Marco behind her spread her legs, making her kneel on all fours. The sharp and cold blade of the knife drilled into the seam of her pants, and with a light flick, the pitiful few pieces of cloth disappeared.

　　The bright light above her head shook, illuminating the sight between Willette's legs.

　　The plump and pink petals trembled slightly as the deeper flesh inside shrank in fright.

　　"Ah, so lovely."

　　Marco praised her insincerely as he slid the knife handle over her tense anus, parted her quivering lips, and ruthlessly thrust into her entrance.

　　A tearing pain shot through the center of her legs.

　　Willette couldn't catch her breath and her teeth chattered, "Lanchester..."

　　She didn't know why she called out her fiancé's name. Calling out had no meaning.

　　It was this man inside who abandoned her, watching her being humiliated and defiled.

　　"Tsk."

　　Marco cursed with some dirty language, "She's still a virgin."

　　He pulled out the knife handle, undid his belt, and his thick and long member bounced off Willette's legs.

　　At that moment, Lanchester finally pressed his lips tightly together, motionless, watching the brutality outside the glass window.

　　His fiancée had a pure and beautiful face like a white rose, her platinum curls were always meticulously arranged into a bun, and she wore a sky blue silk dress with a black diamond set in a silver border at the base of her neck.

　　Because black diamond was the color of his eyes.

　　Now her hair was disheveled, her breasts were pressed pitifully on the ground, and she was arching her back like the cheapest whore.

　　The complex ruffled hem of the dress was piled up on her waist, and Marco held her white and smooth thighs, which could not be closed even when they were pressed together.

　　Under the pale light, he could see the cruel excitement on the face of the Crown Prince of the enemy country.

　　Marco was the Crown Prince of the Seragon Empire, with handsome features and golden hair. He was called the lion of the empire because of his outstanding military capabilities.

　　Now, this lion was about to rape his fiancée.

　　With his thick, bulging, and terrifying member, inch by inch, into the entrance that Willette had never opened to any man before.