She thrashed against his hold, but it was like fighting the tide-relentless, all-consuming, inescapable. Vesper felt like a fish wrenched from water, struggling in vain, lungs burning with panic. His gaze was a dagger, sharp and unyielding, drinking in every flicker of defiance. His arms coiled around her, unshakable, pressing her against the immaculate fabric of his suit-luxurious, suffocating. It burned against her skin, as if she had been cast into the depths of hell itself.
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