Hanging in the air, 28th floor high up, Nathalia dared not look down. Sweats were dripping down her forehead, into her eyes. She couldn't think. She could smell death coming.
Anne swayed the knife around, looking very pleased with herself. "How are you feeling now? Huh? What is it like feeling helpless, seeing the end of your life? Why don't you beg me? Huh? I might let you live." Anne felt a sudden sense of excitement, the victorious feeling of being the one in charge again.
I've suffered so much, all because of this bitch! She thought as she recalled the past glory days when she was the respected Mrs. Carter that everyone would fight to flatter. The more she thought about it, the more she hated Nathalia, and the more she wanted to torture her.