The 7th Woman by Frédérique Molay

raised. He took duct tape from his bag and gagged her. The effect of the anesthesia would wear off soon, but she wouldn’t be able to scream. Then he sat down cross-legged next to his prey, waiting for her to wake up. He stared at her with a relentless, empty look. He would do nothing to her until she regained consciousness. He wanted to see the terror deep in her eyes; he wanted to hear the moans of pain. He would act slowly, getting the most from every second. He would whip her skin into strips. Most important, he would cut off those round breasts she was so proud of. And he had a little surprise for her.
    ONE p.m. Dr. Jacques Taland arrived for his appointment. Nico stood and shook his hand. The man was approaching sixty and had graying hair, a portly belly and a jovial face. With his family-man look, women must have trusted him fully. This thought made Nico smile.
    â€œThank you for coming in so quickly,” Nico began.
    â€œOf course,” the doctor answered. “I’m very upset about what happened to Ms. Jory. I brought you the blood tests from Saturday morning that confirm her pregnancy. There was no doubt. The tests show that everything was normal, for whatever good that does now. Here is her medical file. She stopped taking the pill three months ago. She came to see me beforehand to discuss it. She was so happy when I saw her on Friday. She had made an appointment a month from now for a checkup, although the pregnancy promised to be smooth.”
    â€œHave you known her for a long time? Did she talk to you about the father?”
    â€œShe has been a patient for three years. She was living with someone, according to the information she gave. I had noted that he worked for a bank. Other than that, she was rather reserved, not the kind to tell everyone about her private life. She did not tell me anything more. In cases like that, I don’t want to give the impression that I’m prying. That is not my role. I need to build trust with my patients. Some talk a lot, others are more discreet, and I respect their wishes.”
    â€œCaptain Pierre Vidal will take your statement. You can give him the documents.”
    â€œAt your service.”
    SHE shivered and opened her eyes. First he saw incomprehension. Little by little, she recovered her lucidity. Then panic took hold, with a brutality he had not expected. She thrashed about frantically, pulling on her ropes, shaking her legs, attempting to scream, only to have it thwarted by the duct tape. For a long time he watched her without blinking, until she resigned herself, winded. It was clear what would happen. Tears started to roll down her cheeks, which were swollen from the effort. He smiled coldly.
    â€œBitch,” he said in a tone that was nearly detached.
    More tears came. He liked that. He dominated her. He possessed her. She was his. He could use her however he wanted. He had the power of life and death over her.
    â€œYou have everything you wanted,” he said in the same calm voice. “Do you even realize how lucky you are? Did you savor it? Because today you will lose everything. Forever.”
    He leaned over his bag and picked up a whip with a heavy wooden handle.
    â€œThirty lashes. It’s an anniversary for me.”
    The woman’s eyes showed terror, which boosted her torturer’s motivation. The first blow bruised her skin. On the second, she twisted desperately, trying to escape. Blood came with the third. She was hurting. God! He loved that!
    NICO dialed his mother’s number. Certainly she had been waiting for his call since his doctor’s appointment. She already knew all the details, thanks to Tanya, but she would still hold it against him for not telling her in person. He loved her, and they had a close relationship. But sometimes he needed to distance himself. When he was little, she had been possessive and protective, in the habit of whispering sugary-sweet words in his ear.
    â€œAnya