Thora hauled Badi into an empty private suite and tossed him like a sack of flour. "Ahhh!" His heavy frame slammed into the floor, and it took him a good while to even get back up. The moment Thora stepped inside, Shirley and Tristan filed in behind her. "Boss," they said in unison. Seeing that Thora was gearing up for an interrogation, the two fell into position on either side without a word. Thora looked down at Badi, who had barely hauled himself off the ground and was too scared to breathe. She glanced at the stool in front of her, kicked it toward him, and spoke in a tone that left no room for anything but compliance. "Sit." Badi looked at Thora and the two flanking her, and actually let out a small breath of relief—at least it wasn't Dorian.That man was terrifying. If he'd known it would go this way, he never would have come. He'd bitten off way more than he could chew by demanding a meeting with Dorian by name, and it had nearly cost him his life. The counterfeits getting flagged on the spot was something he hadn't seen coming either. Badi settled onto the stool and studied Thora. Without Dorian's crushing presence looming over him, the terror began to fade, and a flicker of his old confidence started creeping back. Thora took a few steps forward and leaned against the edge of the couch, one leg casually crossed over the other. Her tall, lean frame radiated an effortless kind of menace. Her gaze cut into Badi like a blade. She got straight to it. "Here's how this works. I ask, you answer. Are we clear?" Badi swallowed hard. Instead of answering, he shot back a question of his own. "What do you want?" Before Thora could speak, he rushed to add, his voice slipping into an ingratiating tone. "Do you know who I am? Let me go and I'll pay you whatever you want. I can give you a lot of money. A lot." Thora's expression visibly hardened, impatience bleeding through. Tristan read the room, stepped forward, and drove a fist straight into Badi's face. The man toppled off the stool and hit the floor. "Didn't you hear what the boss said? One more word out of your mouth, and I start taking fingers." Tristan pulled a combat knife from his belt and slammed it onto the table beside them. The blade bit into the wood with a sharp thunk, and Badi's whole body seized up with fear. Thora frowned—they were soldiers, not criminals. Tristan's roughneck energy was getting more convincing by the day. Badi was thoroughly rattled. He struggled back to his feet and obediently planted himself on the stool again. Shirley smiled and handed Thora an apple. Thora took it, then asked, straight to the point, "Where did you buy the counterfeit bills?" Badi's heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted. "Counterfeit bills? I don't know what you're talking about." Thora's cold gaze lifted, a sliver of ice flashing in her eyes. Tristan moved immediately. He grabbed Badi, pinned him against the wall, and went to work. One punch was all it took to shatter most of the man's teeth. Blood smeared across his entire face as he spat out a thick mouthful of red. But Tristan had no intention of stopping. He laid into Badi like a heavy bag, each blow landing with ruthless precision. "Ahhh! Ahhh!" Screams tore through the room one after another. Thora didn't call it off. She simply said, her tone impossibly casual, "Let me know when you're ready to talk." As she spoke, she bit the apple, looking thoroughly unbothered. She wasn't the least bit worried Tristan would kill the man. Tristan knew exactly how to control his force—he targeted the most pain-sensitive areas on the human body, delivering agony that made a person wish they were dead while keeping them very much alive. Against someone with no professional counter-interrogation training, Tristan's methods never failed. Thora popped a bite of apple into her mouth and chewed slowly. Badi's resolve crumbled piece by piece, and his tongue finally began to loosen. He forced the words out between ragged, desperate breaths. "Stop! Stop hitting me! I'll talk! I'll talk!" Thora swallowed a mouthful of apple and passed the rest to Shirley. Tristan wound up for another swing, but Thora caught his eye and gave a subtle signal. Only then did he stop, letting Badi crumple to the floor.Thora stood and walked over to where Badi lay. He could only look up at her from below. His face was a mask of blood, grotesque beyond recognition—his features beaten so far out of shape that not a trace of his original features remained. A testament to just how hard Tristan hit. "Where did the counterfeit bills come from?" Thora's voice was cold steel.