Chapter 67
The warehouse where Nathan was kept stank of rust and dampness, the air heavy with the metallic tang of blood. Somewhere in the shadows, rats scurried, their claws scratching against concrete, but their sound was faint compared to the low groans of a man bound to a chair in the centre of the room.
Nathan Cain’s head lolled forward, his face swollen and battered, his lips cracked and bleeding. His once-pristine shirt was now shredded and soaked through out with crimson stains. The untouchable Nathan Cain was now in Jasper’s clutches all because of his love for Elena.
Two thugs lingered nearby, their silhouettes illuminated by a single hanging bulb that swayed faintly overhead, making the shadows dance across the walls. One leaned against a steel beam, casually flipping a poc
