When Alfonso approached, Alice's whole body stiffened, a sense of nausea wrapped around her.
"Remember, you are mine."
Upon hearing this, aside from fear, Alice felt mostly disgust.
Disgust like never before.
The smell from Alfonso made her want to retch; it was like rotting flesh soaked in perfume.
The stench wasn't masked by the perfume; instead, it became more intense, forming a pungent mixed odor.
Alice's face turned pale, wanting to retch but trying hard to suppress the urge, not daring to show any strange behavior.
She didn't want to anger him.
She knew what Alfonso wanted was her submission.
Submission from the mind to the body, even the soul, with the prerequisite of breakdown, breaking down to the point where there was not a single thought of resistance.
This was also why Alfonso gave her three years to accept it.
He was enjoying her fear, enjoying the thrill of cultivating it.
"Finding my smell disgusting?"
