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Charles was barely conscious, his voice a weak whisper. “No... Evelyn didn’t... it was me...” He tried to explain, but his words were cut off by another lash of the whip.

Antonio leaned in close, his voice a low growl. “You will pay for every lie, every betrayal.” He signaled to his men, who brought in a table filled with various instruments of torture—knives, pliers, and branding irons