The room was silent.
Not the calm kind.
The dangerous kind.
The kind that waits.
The kind that watches you breathe.
Sebastian sat across the table, still, composed, like nothing here could touch him.
No cuffs.
But that meant nothing.
Because this wasn't about chains.
It was about control.
The officer dropped a file in front of him.
Hard.
The sound cracked through the room.
"We'll make this easy," he said. "You talk. We listen."
A pause.
His eyes darkened.
"Or we make you talk."
Sebastian lifted his eyes slowly.
Cold.
Steady.
Unshaken.
"Then you don't need me," he replied.
No anger.
No fear.
Just truth.
Alaric leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching everything without a word.
But his eyes—
Sharp.
Calculating.
Nothing here escaped him.
The officer smirked and tapped the tablet.
"Let's start here."
The video played.
Dark room.
Rough walls.
Low light.
Clifford.
Tied.
Bleeding.
Barely holding on.
