Monica spat out a mouthful of blood as she knelt before Daniel.
Her face was a mask of bruises.
Her pantsuit had been ripped to shreds, and stained red from the brutal whipping she had just endured.
Blood still seeped from the gashes that had been gouged into her skin from Daniel's scourge whip.
She had taken the whipping in silence, knowing full well that screaming only made it worse.
"The only thing that is keeping you alive, is my familial affection. This mess you've made is going to cost us," said Daniel, his voice soft and dangerous, the spiked whip still dripping blood, and still firmly in his hands.
He turned to Elijah and the group of agents assembled in his war room.
