Chapter 47: The Spy Carrying My Child

*Dante*

And work he did, his every move a masterclass in the art of torture and interrogation. He started slow, his tools precise and measured, each cut, burn, and blow designed to inflict maximum pain without pushing Marco over the edge.

But as the minutes ticked by and Marco's screams grew hoarser and more desperate, I felt my patience wearing thin. "Enough," I snapped, my voice cutting through the air like a whip. "Tell us what we want to know, or I swear to God, I will end you right here and now."

Marco's eyes rolled back in his head, his body convulsing with agony. But still, he held on, his jaw clenched tight against the pain.

And then, just as I was about to give up, just as I was about to put a bullet in his skull and be done with it, he broke.

"Please stop, don't kill me. She's gone," he gasped. "Sold to Maxim, on a shipping crate about to dock in Cape Town but bound for Russia…"