“Please, Marco, I don’t—” Nana stammers, her voice shaky. Fear tightens around her chest, her body trembling with the memories of past punishments.

Marco’s sharp gaze flicks over to her, cutting off her words. “What the hell is that smell?” he suddenly blurts out, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Nana freezes, her mind racing. The mark? No, it can’t be that. He hasn’t seen it yet. But the smell? What is he talking about?

“I—I don’t know what you mean,” she ...