CLAUDE
I DIDN’T KNOW how long I sat there, my hands throbbing from pain, every muscle pulling too tight. The room felt like it was impossibly small, the silence felt like it was enough to crush me. I stared at the door, willing it to open—willing Nikolai to come back. Just give me a chance to explain. Let me speak. Let me fix this.
But when the door finally creaked open hours later, it wasn’t Nikolai.
It was them.
Men dressed in black stepped inside, their presence making my throat tight. Guns sat heavy at their hips, as casual as the smirks they wore.
“I don’t understand why the boss gives a prisoner a good room,” one sneered, his accent thick as he crossed his arms and looked me over like I was something beneath his boot. “I don’t even get a good room, and this American gets
