Max's POV

It did not take long for us to find that whore. The stench of mildew and fear hung heavy in the air, a sickening cocktail that clawed at my throat. Aurora, bound tightly to a wooden chair, her wrists raw, her eyes burning with an unholy defiance, remained a stone wall. Leo, ever the calm strategist, paced the cramped room, his shadow stretching and shrinking in the flickering light of the single bare bulb. My own fists were clenched, knuckles white, the primal urge to shatter ...