Damien POV

The man doesn't speak.

I've broken three of his ribs. Split his lip. Turned his face into a mess of bruises and blood. And still—nothing.

Not a word. Not a whimper. Just that fucking defiant silence.

I pace in front of him, flexing my knuckles. They're already healing, the split skin knitting back together while he bleeds onto my dungeon floor.

"You've got spirit. I'll give you that." I stop, crouching down to meet his eyes. "But ...