Her brown eyes flashed with anger and Ginny quickly stood. Ginny didn't fear Rabastan Lestrange, not for a single moment. Perhaps she should have. He was dangerous and capable of killing her without so much as a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Ginny knew what he could do, oh yes, she knew, but she'd never fear him. He'd taken everything else from her, Ginny would've give him her fear as well.
"Do you think I care about this house? I don't care about having money, I never did!" Ginny drained the glass in her hand, licking a drop of the deep red wine from her full lips. Her heart was starting to pound within her ribs, loud enough to be heard in her own ears. "I didn't ask for this life. You forced me into it, didn't you? Dressed me up as your pretty little doll to make people like you."
Glaring at him, Ginny wondered how she'd managed to remain in his home this long. If it weren't for their son, Ginny would've never survived. "What more can you possibly do to me," she asked with a roll of her eyes. "I'm already in hell."