POV: Burn
The room was small and bare, the concrete walls closing in on the man tied to the chair in the middle of it. The only light in the room came from a single, flickering bulb overhead, casting harsh shadows across his bruised face. His suit, once pristine and pressed, was now covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. His hands were bound behind him, his ankles tied to the legs of the chair, leaving him no room to move.
The rest of the club waited outside, but it was just me and Skull in here with him now. This wasn’t something that needed an audience. Torture wasn’t a spectacle—it was a tool. And this bastard was about to find out just how sharp it could be.
Skull stood off to the side, his eyes dark as he leaned against the wall, watching. His knuckles were still bruised and bloodied f
