Clayton throws the files on the floor and leans back in his chair. He picks up the glass of whiskey and continues to watch me aloofly. As if on cue, the fire crackles.
“You like games, don’t you, Sophie?” He asks again.
“I don’t-“ I stammer.
“Sure you do.”
My breath hisses out.
“So let’s play one,” he tells.
I continue to stare at him, wide eyed
"Take. Off. Your. Clothes."