CHAPTER 93

Wilson's breath hitched in his throat and his face lost all color, and then, as if his body gave up before his mind did, a wet stain spread down his pants and pattered down to the ground.

Lucifer didn’t react. Didn’t blink. He just stood there, watching him with eyes that burned, not just with fury, but with exhaustion and frustration.

His body was rigid, his movements were stiff, like he was barely holding himself together. Days without sleep had hollowed his face and deepened the bags under his eyes.

“Please,” Wilson begged.

Cassius, who was sitting at the edge of his chair, frowned. His thick brows pulled...