The woman stared down at the shivering boy, the room stinking of piss, bowel release and vomit.
There were marks, bruises she’d inflicted on the boy whenever he was too loud, or too pathetic, or his mother forced her hand. They were blue and black and some green, and he didn’t look so cute anymore. One of his expensive shoes was missing, and she couldn’t tell where it had fallen, though she’d searched.
He looked filthier than an alleyway rat.
The woman smiled.
Her original plan was to kill him after she got the money, but the fiasco of her call to the pitiful mother a few minutes ago changed her plan. It was a shame that the mastermind behind this mission had died. He’d protested when she’d hurt the boy, protested more when she’d told him she wasn’t returning the kid alive. And then, y
