Salvar let his gaze rest on Patrick, expecting him to continue, but the man in the pink gown said nothing. He simply sat there, propped against his pillows like a fallen prince, his bandaged leg stretched before him and his eyes tired but watchful.
"Ask me how I did it," Patrick said, and there was a flicker of something proud in his voice, a spark that had not been there moments before.
Salvar let out a short, amused breath. "So, how did you do it, Patrick?"
Patrick lifted his head. His eyes were still red-rimmed and raw, but his voice had steadied. There was something new behind it now. Not just fear. Something sharper.
"You asked how I managed to trigger the entire network," Patrick began, looking at Salvar. "How one faction sent men to kill me and the other sent men to capture me. So let me explain."
Salvar leaned forward, his fractured hand cradled against his chest, and nodded once. "I'm listening."
