Rex abruptly released his grip. Valentina fell backward like a broken marionette, her head snapping against the marble with a dull thud.
She lay there, convulsing slightly as her body struggled to process the agony in her ribs and the violation of her scalp. Her breathing was a wet, rattling, sound hiss wheeze as blood from her split lip smeared across her chin.
Her eyes, swollen and bloodshot, fixed on him with a cocktail of hatred so potent it should have burned, but beneath that rage lay something far more terrifying: a cold, paralyzing realization.
She was utterly, completely powerless.
Rex didn't move to finish her. He simply stood over her, the shadow of his frame swallowing her whole, casting her into darkness.
When he spoke again, his voice was devoid of any inflection, as flat and unyielding as a tombstone.
"From now on," Rex said, each word precise, cutting through the silence like a scalpel, "you will do exactly as I command."
"You will be my eyes and ears..."
