Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen 

Dimitri

The cell was worse than death.

At least in death, there was peace and an ending.

But here, there was only suffering. Endless, unrelenting suffering.

The darkness was complete. I could not see my hand in front of my face. The cold seeped into my bones. I had only my shorts. Nothing else. And the smell. God, the smell could kill.

How many men had died in this cell before me?

I had no idea how long I had been here. Days? Weeks?

Time had lost all meaning.

My body was a mass of pain. Bruises covered every inch of skin. Cuts that should...