//CLARA//
Casimir's thumb remained pressed against my lower lip. His eyes were entirely devoid of light.
He meant every single word. It was terrifying. It was completely unhinged.
"A river of blood sounds incredibly tedious to clean off the imported Persian rugs, Casimir."
For a fraction of a second, the dead calm in his eyes shifted. He didn't let go immediately. Instead, his grip tightened just enough to remind me that he could snap my jaw if he chose to, his thumb dragging across my bottom lip one last time before his hand dropped back to the silver head of his cane.
"I assure you, the math does not care about your sarcasm." His voice was flat, clinical. "I am an accountant of survival. If a variable threatens the asset, the variable is permanently erased from the column."
