"Yes! I was sent to spy on her!"
Tryson halted, the cotton just a breath away from making contact. A slow, satisfied smile curled his lips as he straightened, eyes gleaming with triumph.
Tryson slowly peeled the cotton away from the man's face, his sharp eyes locked onto the bruised figure before him.
A slow, knowing smile curved his lips as he spoke, his voice deceptively calm.
"So, you were sent to spy on her."
The man swallowed hard and gave a stiff nod.
Tryson's gaze darkened. "Your other people—tell me where they're located."
For a fleeting moment, the man hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape that didn't exist.
Tryson, evidently out of patience for the man's theatrics, lifted the dampened cotton once more. But before he could press it back against the man's skin, the prisoner blurted out frantically,
"Really, really! Mr. Arthur promised me a huge sum if I just did this job!" His voice was rushed, desperate, his breath uneven.
