"Did you enjoy the show, Aria?" Logan's voice dripped with malice as he circled her, the sound of his boots echoing in the dark, desolate warehouse.
Aria's wrists were bound to the chair, the ropes digging into her skin. Blood trickled from a fresh cut on her lip, but she didn't answer. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing she was scared.
"Still pretending to be strong?" Logan sneered, crouching to meet her gaze. "I warned you, didn't I? Dante can't protect you forever."
Her heart pounded, but she met his gaze with defiance. "You think this will break me?" she spat. "You'll have to do better than this, Logan."
His eyes narrowed, and his smirk disappeared. He stood abruptly, his fists clenched at his sides. "You really haven't learned your place, have you?"
He motioned to one of his men, who stepped forward, holding a silver-tipped blade. The air grew heavy with tension as the blade caught the dim light.
