Her hands, already trembling, gripped the skirt tighter. The fabric pulled down, covering another inch of thigh. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. The eyes, dozens of them, were on her. On her body. On her skin. On the collar and the rope and the panties and the cleavage.
'We are going to die. He brought me here to die. He is insane. He is a beast. He is a monster. He brought me to the slums to...'
Viktor stopped walking.
He turned. His eyes, behind the mask, found the group of men against the wall. The big one with the scar. The wiry one with the yellow teeth. The others, four, five, forming a loose semicircle.
His gaze settled on the wiry one. The sharp-faced man who had spoken of killing.
"Go," Viktor said. His voice was calm. Even. The voice of a man giving instructions to a waiter. "Send a message to Gorgon. Tell him to come meet me. In exchange, I will give him information regarding the House of Latvia. Which perished a decade ago."
