Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the tiny prison window, casting a shadow over half of Vlad’s face as he stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the man kneeling before him. The light framed him like a god dispensing judgment, an aura of absolute authority suffocating the air within the stone chamber.
Rocky, on the other hand, was like a reckless dog challenging a tiger. His eyes blazed with defiance, their fiery emerald hue almost masking his body’s trembling.
“I know you’ve been targeting our guild from the start,” he spat. “That’s why you chose my sister, a commoner, even though there are plenty of pretty noblewomen vying for the title of Duchess— urgh!”
Vlad’s boot came down hard on his thigh. The pressure alone felt like a boulder crushing him, threatening to tear muscle from bone with a single shift of weight. It was clear Vlad was no stranger to subjugation; dominance and control were second nature to him.
