The chains rattle as I lunge forward, the metal bites deep. But they hold. Tight. Secure. My breath turns ragged.
My men.
Are they all dead?
Mario?
Pierre?
Fuck.
Most of all, Sophia.
I failed her. Again.
Aurelio steps closer, studying my face like he’s reading a map. Then, without warning, his fist drives into my gut. Pain explodes, forcing the air out of my lungs in a hard, choking gasp.
"Habla," he says.Speak.
I shake my head, tasting blood, but his voice turns sharp, the calm gone.
"Puta mierda," he spits, and the next blow comes even harder.
I double over as far as the chains will let me, dragging in air through my teeth. My ribs ache like they’re about tosplinter, but I don’t make a sound. If Aurelio doesn’t know I was coming for Sophia, it’s better that way. I might have failed her already, failed to rescue her from whatever the hell has caused her to walk into this hornet’s nest, but I can still keep it from getting worse.
I straighten slowly, allowing the metal to bite into my wrists. My shoulders burn, and my head’s pounding. I have no clue how long I’ve been down here. Hours? A day? Maybe more. The place has no windows, no sense of time—just the constant drip of water somewhere in the dark and the stink of damp stone.
Aurelio studies me, his head tilts slightly, and the faintest smirk pulls at his mouth. "Ah. The strong, silent type." He circles me slowly, and the tap of his expensive shoes echoes in the chamber. "Men like you think silence makes you noble. Or dangerous. But here?" He gestures around us at the bare concrete walls, the drain in the floor. "It just makes you alonger project."
He snaps his fingers, and one of his men steps forward with something in his hand, a length of rubber hose, thick and heavy. The first strike lands across my ribs, lighting fire under my skin. The second hits my thigh, and I grit my teeth so hard I hear them creak.
"You came intomycountry," Aurelio says, his tone conversational, almost friendly. "You hiredmyenemies. You gathered weapons. You studiedmyhome." His voice drops, dark silk over a blade. "Why?"
The hose slams into my back, driving me against the chains. My shoulders scream.
I say nothing.
"Hijo de puta," Aurelio mutters, stepping close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. "You think you can protect something—someone—by keeping your mouth shut? That’s not how this ends for you."
I don’t respond. Can’t. Because the only name in my head is hers.
Sophia.
I’m not giving her to him. Not while I’m still breathing.
Aurelio steps in front of me again, head cocked, studying me like I’m a puzzle he half-wants to solve and half-wants to smash.
"Let’s start simple," he says, voice smooth. "Who are you?"
I don’t answer.
His smile tightens. "What’s your name?"
Even better. He has no clue who I am. I lift my head, meeting his gaze dead-on. "The man who will kill you."
For a beat, silence hangs between us. Then Aurelio throws his head back and laughs, a deep, rich sound that makes his men grin. He wipes an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.
"¡Carajo! You’ve got balls. I’ll give you that." He glances over his shoulder at his guards. "This one thinks he’s a lion, boys."
