My head is pounding, my temples won't stop throbbing. I feel a fire coursing through every vein in my body. No, it's not fire, it's liquid lava, so hot that I feel it will turn me to ashes.
Her crying doesn't move me, it doesn't make me feel pity. I couldn't care less about her crying over someone not worth it. Rebecca is so immersed in her own panic, mixed with shock, that she only has the energy to cry.
I look at the table covered with all sorts of torture devices. My eyes fix on the traitor and I notice something I hadn't seen at first. His feet are in a bucket of water. I suppose Dimitri was using this just for fun before going to the warehouse.
Inside the cellar, only my firm steps on the wooden floor, Rebecca's sobbing, and the groans of pain from the man who hasn't fully reacted
