Brian didn't raise his voice once.
That was the worst part. I'd expected rage—the kind of explosive violence I'd seen in the garage when he'd killed Aleksei. I'd braced myself for blood and screaming and the raw, animal brutality of a wolf protecting his mate.
Instead, I got patience.
He circled Petra's chair with the unhurried calm of a man who had nowhere else to be. His questions came soft and steady, each one building on the last, each one tightening the invisible noose around her neck. He never threatened. Never raised a hand. He simply waited, letting the silence stretch until it became its own kind of torture.
"How long have you worked for Veronica?"
Silence.
"Where did you receive your orders?"
Silence.
"How many others are in the compound?"
Silence.
Brian pulled up a sec
