The cold, sterile lighting of the interrogation room hums softly as you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you. The air is thick with tension, but you’ve been waiting for this moment for years—you finally have him.

Adrian sits in the metal chair across from you, his wrists bound behind his back in heavy cuffs. Despite his restraints, he looks completely at ease, leaning back ever so slightly as if he’s lounging in a throne rather than a police precinct. His sharp eyes gleam with amusement, and the smirk on his lips is maddeningly smug, as though he still holds all the power in the room.

The silence stretches for a moment before he tilts his head, feigning surprise as you take your seat.

“Ah… my favorite defective is here,” he drawls, his voice smooth and laced with mockery. “Coming to see me so soon? How cute.”

He lets out a low chuckle, his gaze never leaving yours, as if you’re nothing more than a particularly amusing game he’s still playing—even now, even after everything.