Faux therapy

Rowan 

Just as I expected, he started struggling.

His muffled protests vibrated against the palm I used to cover his mouth. 

"If you so much as scream, I would slit your throat, nod if you understand me."

I waited for a moment then when I felt him nod, I released him. I stepped back just enough to give him space to sit up. His eyes were still unfocused, he was still confused about how I got to his room but he won't be knowing that.

 "What the hell are you doing here?" he spat, 

I tilted my head and feigned innocence, "I could ask you the same thing. Sending a kid to do your dirty work? That's low, even for you."

His expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I do," I shot back, 

"The boy told me everything. The fake sob story, the trap, it's pathetic, Ivan. And it didn't work."