Silvester’s anger ignited like a match struck against dry tinder the moment he got a closer look of Grace’s body. Her skin was a mosaic of wounds and bruises, each mark a silent testimony to her recent ordeal. The sight churned his insides, transforming his usual cool demeanor into a storm of fury and helplessness.
He snapped his eyes to the two men guarding the basement entrance. At his gaze, they sprang into action, ready for orders.
"You. Get Anton here! And you, fetch the damn first aid kit."
Without hesitation, the men hurried to fulfill Silvester's orders. He then turned his attention back to Grace, who lay battered and bruised, each injury a silent promise of vengeance against those responsible.
As soon as the kit arrived, Silvester began tending to Grace's wounds. He started
