Gabriel’s POV
The scent of damp concrete and stale air filled the basement beneath my private villa. The room was dimly lit, a single overhead bulb casting shadows against the rough walls.
The man we had caught; Aria’s stalker, was tied to a steel chair, his wrists bound behind him, his head slumped forward. Blood trailed from his split lip, staining the collar of his shirt.
Jonathan stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the prisoner. To his right, Owen, the torturer, leaned against a table lined with tools. The guard, Silas, remained by the door, hands clasped behind his back, his stance rigid.
I stepped forward, my footsteps echoing. The man barely lifted his head.
“Has he talked?” I asked, my voice cutting through the silence.
Owen sighed, rubbing his knu
