Page 19 of Beneath the Thorned Crown

“You’ve been busy near my docks,” I say, my voice low, almost conversational. “Care to tell me why before I make this more unpleasant for you?”

Adrian spits onto the concrete floor, the sound sharp and defiant. “Go to hell.”

I don’t react. Instead, I turn to Jayden and give a slight nod. Jayden doesn’t think twice—he steps forward and delivers a brutal swing to Adrian’s ribs with the crowbar. The sickening crunch echoes through the space, followed by Adrian’s strangled gasp of pain.

I lean against a nearby table, crossing my arms as I watch him struggle to catch his breath. “I’ll ask again,” I say, my tone as steady as ever. “What’s Samuel planning at the seaport?”

Adrian coughs, a wet, rasping sound. “I don’t know,” he grits out.

I grab his chin and jerk his face up, forcing him to meet my gaze. I know there’s a shipment coming tomorrow, and I have an idea of what it could be. I just need confirmation. “Wrong answer.”

The truth is, I could end this quickly. I could take the crowbar myself, apply just the right amount of pressure, and break him in minutes. But I don’t. This isn’t just about information—it’s about sending a message.

“You think you’re tough,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper. “You think you can hold out. But let me tell you something, Adrian. Everyone breaks. The only question is how much it’s going to hurt before you do.”

Adrian’s face flushes, his eyes gleaming with fear even as he struggles to maintain his defiance. His breathing is shallow, each inhale sharp and uneven. I can see the fight in him starting to falter, but it’s not enough. Not yet.

Jayden steps back, waiting for my signal, the crowbar hanging loosely at his side. Nico leans against the wall, arms crossed, his face expressionless. Although he’s relatively new, he knows this game well enough by now—there’s an art to breaking someone, a balance of pain and patience. Too much too fast, and they’ll shut down. Too little, and they’ll think they can outlast you.

“You’re wasting my time,” I say, my tone cold. “And I don’t have the patience to keep asking nicely.”

Adrian laughs—short, bitter, and tinged with desperation. “You think this scares me?” he spits, his voice shaking. “Samuel will kill me if I talk.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And what do you think I’ll do if you don’t?” My voice is soft, almost gentle, but the threat beneath it is unmistakable.

His breath hitches, and I can feel the crack forming in his resolve. He’s starting to realize there’s no way out of this, that his loyalty to Samuel isn’t worth the pain waiting for him here.

I signal Jayden again, and the crowbar swings once more, this time connecting with Adrian’s knee. He screams, the sound raw and guttural, echoing off the warehouse walls. I don’t waver, don’t move, just watch as he writhes in the chair, his face contorted in agony.

“Enough,” I say after a moment, holding up a hand. Jayden steps back, his expression calm, almost bored, as if this is just another day at work.

I grab a chair from the corner of the room, dragging it over with a screech that makes Adrian wince. Sitting down across from him, I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Let’s try this again,” I say, my voice steady. “What’s Samuel planning at the seaport?”

He’s silent for a long moment, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Shipments. Weapons. He’s bringing them in to arm his crew.”

I nod slowly, absorbing the information. “When?”

Adrian stalls, and I see a trace of defiance return to his eyes. “I don’t—”

Before he can finish, I slam my fist into the armrest of his chair, the sound sharp and startling. “Don’t test me, Adrian,” I snap, my patience wearing thin. “You’ve already lost. The only choice you have left is how much you’re going to suffer before this ends.”

His resolve crumbles, and the words spill out in a rush. “Tomorrow night,” he gasps. “Midnight. Pier 12. That’s all I know, I swear.”

I lean back, studying him. He’s telling the truth—I can see it in his eyes, hear it in the desperation in his voice. But he’s holding back. I can feel it.

“Pier 12,” I repeat slowly, letting the words hang between us. “And what’s Samuel’s endgame? What’s he planning after the shipments?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian says quickly, shaking his head. “He doesn’t tell me everything. I’m just a runner, I swear.”

I narrow my eyes, my gaze boring into him. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not!” he insists, his voice rising in panic. “I told you everything I know!”

I consider pressing further, pushing him until he gives me what I want. But then I remember Hugo’s call from last night—the cryptic warning, the veiled promise of more information to come. Hugo knows something. And it’s certainly bigger than what Adrian can offer. And while I hate relying on him after what happened with Isabella, I know I’ll need his help to piece this together.

“Take him to the safe house,” I say, rising to my feet. My voice is emotionless, detached, the decision made. “We’ll deal with him later.”

Nico and Jayden move without question, hauling Adrian out of the chair. He groans in pain, his body limp between them, but he doesn’t resist. The fight is gone from him now, replaced by a quiet, resigned fear.

---