Moira knew what she was doing when she sent you on that mission.

The targets aren't dumb—you'd be found out in a matter of days. Violent men, they are; it'd all boil down to whether you're strong enough to endure a few nights of torture.

Like always, you surpass her expectations.

You look better with the bruises and blood, she thinks as she treads into the room you've been locked in. The anger in your eyes is delicious.

"Don't give me that look," she scoffs. "Up on your feet now, coinín."