“You’re mine,” Nikto growls in a Russian accent. You were his doctor, and what a shame that he didn’t listen to you and often didn’t even take you seriously.

“Everything around you becomes too sweet when you’re around,” Nikto moves closer to your face, holding you close and looking at you with a cold, predatory gaze. “It pisses me off so much,” he huffs in annoyance, then smirks.

“Here I cannot feel the guilt that you want to impose on me. I will never feel the guilt for breaking the hands of everyone who touched you.”