Vincent crouched in front of me, lowering his voice into a dangerous whisper. “Where is Sofia? I’m giving you one last opportunity to answer.”
I could not respond. My mind had gone numb.
He straightened slowly, nodding to himself as if reaching a conclusion. “So you won’t talk. You think it’s amusing to ruin someone’s face, is that it?”
One of the bodyguards handed him a bottle of medical alcohol.
Vincent unscrewed the cap and poured the liquid directly onto the ashes scattered on the floor. The alcohol soaked into the gray powder, turning it into a murky paste.
He bent down, scooped up a handful of the mixture, and without hesitation smeared it across my face.
The sudden chill made my entire body tremble, but he seemed only more enraged by my reaction. He pressed harder, rubbing the ash and alcohol into my skin as if grinding it in.
“Since you like playing these games, I’ll personally give you a treatment,” he said mockingly. “How does it feel? Say something. Can’t you hear me asking you?”
The alcohol seeped into the skin that his earlier slap had already split open. A burning sensation tore through me, twisting my features in agony. My cries echoed down the decrepit corridor.