Betty’s POV

The bathroom was a bit misty to see clearly.

Water streamed down his back in slow, steady lines, tracing over every cut and bruise before slipping along his skin and disappearing at his waist. The red stains had not completely washed away. It clung faintly to him, mixing with the water and running down in thin streaks that made my stomach tighten.

My face burned immediately at the sight.

It was not the first time I had seen him like this. Ivan had never been modest, never ...