(Evelina's POV—Warehouse, Continuation)
Kael's scream still echoed faintly through the warehouse—muffled under the tape, vibrating through the cold metal walls like a dying animal.
Pathetic.
He trembled so violently the chair shook beneath him, scraping against the concrete floor. Sweat beaded down his temples, mixing with tears, blood, and fear—my favorite combination.
I twirled the knife between my fingers, letting the dim overhead bulb glint across the blade. A soft, amused hum slipped from my lips.
"Mm. Crying already?" I tilted my head. "And I haven't even started."
His eyes darted wildly—pleading, begging, cursing—all at once. Rowan stood a few steps behind me like a silent shadow, posture firm, eyes cold. Theo lounged lazily on a crate, smoke curling around him, watching me as if I were his personal entertainment.
But the only one who mattered here… Was the man tied to the chair.
If he thought the stab to the thigh was the climax—oh, poor idiot.
