"Please," he gasped again, his voice fracturing like brittle twigs snapping under heavy boots, raw and desperate.
Tears carved glistening paths down his flushed cheeks, mingling with rivulets of sweat that drenched his collar, turning the crisp white fabric into a sodden mess.
"I swear on my life, It wasn't what you think it was. I had no choice, man, none at all! It was an order from someone. They own me, pull my strings like a damn puppet!"
Devon's response was silence, absolute and chilling. He didn't blink, didn't twitch a single muscle. His face was impassive, devoid of any flicker of mercy or hesitation.
Those sharp eyes bored down like the gaze of an avenging angel, unflinching in their judgment. The man, sensing the void where compassion should be, spiraled further into panic.
