Viktor was on his knees in the center of the chaos, hands bound behind his back with zip ties, face already bruised and bleeding from the beating Silas's men had given him. His clothes were torn, and one eye was swelling shut.
Silas stood over him like a god of vengeance, sleeves rolled up, knuckles stained with Viktor's blood. His expression was ice-cold, but his eyes burned with controlled fury. Several of his elite operatives surrounded them, weapons drawn, ensuring no escape.
"You thought you could take what belongs to me?" Silas said quietly, voice low and deadly. He grabbed Viktor by the hair and yanked his head back. "You touched Leon. You put your filthy hands on him. You tortured him. For that alone, I should skin you alive right here."
Viktor spat blood onto the ground, laughing weakly through the pain. "You think this changes anything? The Emperor will destroy you. He always wins in the end. You're just a rich boy playing king in a world you don't understand."
