Page 37 of Breaking the Annulment

Petros’s breathing grew erratic, his chest heaving as panic clawed at him. His mind raced, searching for an escape that didn’t exist. “I—I don’t know anything,” he stammered weakly, his voice cracking.

“Wrong answer,” Dimitris said flatly, his smirk vanishing. He gestured to the door. “And now, you’re out of time.”

The door creaked open, the sound reverberating through the room like a death knell. Petros froze, his blood running cold.

The air in the room shifted the moment Michalis entered, his presence suffocating, commanding. His sharp eyes swept over the scene, taking in Petros’s trembling form, the sweat dripping from his brow, the way his shoulders hunched as though trying to shrink into the chair. Michalis’s expression was unreadable, his movements deliberate as he closed the door behind him with a quiet click.

No one spoke. Dimitris stepped back, his usual smirk replaced by a neutral mask, while Elias and Ajax stood still, their gazes shifting to Michalis as though awaiting his command.

Michalis crossed the room slowly, the measured scrape of his shoes against the concrete floor the only sound. He stopped just in front of Petros, his imposing frame looming over the bound man. For a long moment, he said nothing, letting the silence stretch until it became unbearable.

Petros whimpered, his breathing ragged. “B-boss,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please—I didn’t?—”

Michalis’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Petros’s hair and yanking his head back sharply. The chair screeched against the floor, the sound harsh and grating.

“You betrayed me,” Michalis said softly, his voice calm but laced with cold fury. His piercing stare locked onto Petros’s, unblinking. “Do you know what happens to traitors, Petros?”

Petros’s lips trembled, but no sound came out. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, his terror overwhelming him. His entire body shook, and a dark stain spread across the front of his pants, the pungent smell of urine cutting through the damp air.

Michalis’s gaze didn’t waver, didn’t soften. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t get to beg. You don’t get to plead. You get one chance to tell me who gave you that ticket. One. Chance.”

“It was him!” Petros choked out, his voice breaking. “A man—David! He said his name was David! He paid me—he said it was important, that it was for his wife, that it was private! I didn’t know—please, boss, I didn’t know?—”

Michalis held his gaze for a long moment, the silence in the room growing heavier with each passing second. Then, slowly, he released Petros’s hair, letting the man’s head fall forward as he sagged in the chair, trembling and sobbing.

Michalis straightened, his expression cold, detached. Without a word, he removed his jacket, his movements deliberate. The air in the room grew colder, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

Dimitris cleared his throat, his tone casual but carrying an undercurrent of dark amusement. “Well, Petros,” he said lightly. “You heard the boss. Traitors don’t get to walk away.”

Michalis stepped forward, his shadow falling over Petros. “Cry all you want. You’re going to tell me everything you know about ‘David’.”

The traitor’s sobs grew louder, echoing off the concrete walls as the door creaked open.

Dimitris’s head snapped toward the sound, his instincts flaring to life. Aurelia stood framed in the doorway, her expression uncertain, her hand still on the door handle. Shehadn’t seen much yet, but her presence alone sent a ripple of tension through the room.

Dimitris moved swiftly, cutting her off before she could step inside. “Aurelia,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm, “you shouldn’t be down here.”

Her eyes darted past him, searching for Michalis. She didn’t quite see him, but she could sense something was wrong. The air was thick, oppressive, and the dim light from the hallway cast uneasy shadows on the walls.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion. “Why are you down here?”

Dimitris stepped forward, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click before she could see anything more. “It’s just business,” he said, his tone light and casual. “Michalis is handling it. Nothing for you to worry about.”

Her brow furrowed, and she folded her arms over her chest, her expression skeptical. “What kind of business? Why is it in the basement?”

Dimitris gave her a lopsided grin, leaning casually against the door as though the situation was entirely mundane. “You know how Michalis is. He likes his privacy when he’s working out deals.”

“Deals?” she repeated, her voice uncertain. She tilted her head, studying him. “What kind of deals happen in a basement?”

“Sensitive ones,” Dimitris replied smoothly, not missing a beat. “Sometimes it’s better to talk where no one can overhear. You know how our world is—lots of people like to eavesdrop.”

A faint sound leaked through the door, a muffled cry that barely reached her ears. Her lips parted, her eyes darting toward the closed door, a flicker of unease crossing her face. “What was that?”

“Plumbing,” Dimitris said quickly, his grin widening as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “This oldplace has pipes that creak and groan like they’re alive. We’ve been meaning to fix it for years.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, doubt flickering in her expression. “It didn’t sound like plumbing.”

“It didn’t?” Dimitris feigned surprise, his tone light and playful. “Maybe it’s a rat, then. Big, nasty ones down here. I wouldn’t hang around too long if I were you.”

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