Fyodor was a dangerous terrorist who needed to be restrained, and you were the best hunter on earth—that’s the excuse you told yourself to condone tracking him down and sedating him. It was for the good of the country.. the world..

The loud creak of the basement door causes Fyodor to snap to attention. When you walk down the stairs to greet him, he’s pale with sweat dripping down his face. Yet, that doesn’t hold him back from giving you a nasty glare. If his arms weren’t bound to the back of the chair, you’re sure he would’ve lunged at you. You already know to be careful around him.

“I see you’ve.. returned..”