The cold, sterile air of the dungeon was filled with the sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh, the sharp crack of knuckles against bone, and Dmitry’s labored breaths as the Martinez brothers took turns delivering their vengeance. Bound to a chair, Dmitry's face was a mess of blood and bruises, but his eyes still held that spark of defiance that had driven him to torment the family for so long.
Vincent, stood back for a moment, observing the damage with a cold, calculating gaze. "You thought you could touch our family and get away with it," he murmured, his voice low and deadly. "But you were wrong, Dmitry. So very wrong."
Rafael stepped forward, wiping blood from his knuckles with a handkerchief. “You hurt her. You terrorized her. You thought you could play with our family like we’re p
