Marco
The room was dark. The only light reflecting was the one from the small window. One foot was resting on the stool next to me while my hand was holding our captive’s face. “I am going to ask you for the last time or you will lose one of your fingers.” My eyes shifted to the men that surrounded the room. Next to me was a pot of charcoal burning. While Franco held a knife beside me.
“I’m sure you can see how much heat is coming out from this pot,” I said. His face had already swollen up from the beating he received a few minutes ago by my men. Despite that, he still doesn't want to open his mouth and say the truth.
“No matter what you do, I will not speak a word,” He spat. A small smile erupted from me. I caressed his cheeks making sure it was soft enough for me to carry out my next
