Chapter 87. The Message

Zara’s shriek tore through the estate once more as Damian severed her remaining arm without blinking. Blood splattered across the stone floor in an arc, painting a crimson trail in his wake. He tossed the severed limb into the bubbling oil, his expression as calm as ever—like a chef tending to a pot of stew.

The oil hissed and spit.

He crouched, waiting.

Watching…

And when the meat began to darken—its texture warping with heat—he retrieved it using a long iron rod. Without a word, he tossed the seared limb at the foot of his jaguar.

The beast stepped forward, sniffed… then sank its teeth in with satisfaction.

The sickening sound of flesh tearing echoed.

Zara, barely conscious, whimpered in a guttural, wordless tone. Her body convulsed with every pulse of pain still shooting through her. Her eyes—wild, full of terror—searched blindly for a shred of mercy.

She would find none.

Damian circled her like a shadow made flesh. Then—slowl