I lift both hands slowly, deliberately, palms open and empty, fingers spread wide where Adrian can see every inch of them.
The concrete is cold beneath my knees. Water seeps through my trousers, soaking in, numbing skin that already feels too far away from everything happening above it. The spotlight is brutal up close. It flattens the world into sharp edges and unforgiving truth. There is nowhere to hide inside it.
Adrian laughs.
It is loud. Bright. Almost delighted.
“Look at you,” he says, circling to my left, boots scraping softly against the floor. “On your knees. Hands up. The great Damian Thornton reduced to this.”
Elena sobs against the ropes, her entire body shaking. The chair rattles faintly as she trembles.
“Pathetic,” Adrian adds, savoring the word. “I always wondered how
