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Pain shoots through my cheek, and my head snaps to the side as Derek backhands me while I’m still glancing up at the ceiling.
“Stop looking for ways to escape,” he orders. “Because there are none.”
I slowly turn my head back so that I’m facing him. He will pay for that strike. Maybe not today. But someday.
He grabs my chin. Hard. His fingers dig into my flesh as he leans closer. I yank against the manacles and the chain that keeps my arms trapped above my head, but it’s no use. I can’t get him to take his fucking hand off my chin.
“You know the drill, Anna,” Derek says, his voice dropping menacingly low. “You tell us what we want to know, and we won’t hurt you.”
An overwhelming urge to spit in his face crashes over me, but I manage to stifle it. Antagonizing him unnecessarily is just plain stupid. Instead, I just glare back at him.
“Where is Enrico Morelli?” he demands.
I keep my mouth shut.
His fingers tighten on my chin, digging in so hard that I know they will leave bruises. “Where is Enrico Morelli?”
I say nothing.
A jolt shoots through my body, and I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth.
Behind me, Sebastian jabs what feels like a cattle prod into my back again.
Pain pulses through my body and my muscles cramp again.
I grit my teeth.
Derek continues staring me down. “Where is Enrico Morelli?”
I stare right back at him.
Sebastian discharges another electric current into me. Again. And again. My body spasms, but I refuse to make a sound. Refuse to give them the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain.
With a snarl, Derek yanks his hand away from my jaw and stalks over to a table. Sebastian uses the cattle prod on me again while Derek picks up a knife and then strides back to me.
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, he slides the knife underneath it and then pulls upwards.
A ripping sound fills the air as he cuts the shirt away from my body.
Light from the flickering lamp above glints in the sharp blade as he holds it up in front of my face.
“Where is Enrico Morelli?”
I keep my eyes locked on his but say nothing.
He flicks his wrist.
Pain sears through my skin as he cuts a shallow wound on my chest.
“Where is Enrico Morelli?”
I clench my jaw, glaring back at him.
He cuts me again and then repeats the question. I refuse to answer.
Gritting my teeth, I block out the pain as Derek opens another half dozen shallow cuts over my stomach and chest. Warm blood runs down my skin. But they’re not life-threatening. Because they still need to deliver me alive back to the Master so that he can torture me himself for one hundred days before he finally executes me.
When the knife and the cattle prod doesn’t work, they pull me down from the chain and instead strap me to a chair.
