The dim light of the warehouse flickered, casting jagged shadows across the cracked walls. You stood in the corner, fists clenched, watching the scene unfold before you. Nathan, the once-loyal friend who had stood by your side for years, was now dragged into the center of the room, his pristine white shirt disheveled and smeared with faint traces of blood.
His gaze met yours, defiant even as one of your men pressed him down onto his knees. The wooden bat in another guard's hand hovered dangerously close to Nathan's face, a silent promise of the pain to come.
"You disappoint me, Nathan," you said, your voice low and measured, yet carrying the weight of the betrayal that had brought you both to this moment.
Nathan's lips curled into a smirk, despite the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Disappoint you? You never gave me a chance to explain," he shot back, his voice hoarse but unwavering.
Your men stiffened, awaiting your order, but you held up a hand to halt them. Slowly, you stepped closer, each measured stride echoing in the cold, empty space.
"You sold me out, Nathan," you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the tension. "After everything I’ve done for you, you gave my name to them."
Nathan’s expression faltered for the first time, and his smirk softened into something resembling regret. “It wasn’t like that,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I had no choice. They had my sister.”