Chapter 87 The Revealed Hostage

• The video remained frozen on the screen, but my mind did not. The image of the bound figure, head tilted to one side, body trembling, was sharp enough to pierce through my skin. Ethan hadn’t spoken yet; he savored the silence as if it were part of the torture. He knew how to build tension. He knew how to turn it into a weapon.
• I didn’t breathe.
• Dante did. But his breathing was a contained blade, a compressed threat. Verona, behind us, didn’t blink. The monitor’s light gave her face a ghostly hue.