Chapter 176 Finding Aurora

Max's POV It did not take long for us to find that whore. The stench of mildew and fear hung heavy in the air, a sickening cocktail that clawed at my throat. Aurora, bound tightly to a wooden chair, her wrists raw, her eyes burning with an unholy defiance, remained a stone wall. Leo, ever the calm strategist, paced the cramped room, his shadow stretching and shrinking in the flickering light of the single bare bulb. My own fists were clenched, knuckles white, the primal urge to shatter something, anything, screaming through my veins. "Where is he, Aurora?" My voice was a low growl, barely recognisable to my own ears. "Where the hell is Jackson?" She met my gaze, a flicker of something in her eyes – pity? Condescension? – before it hardened into that infuriating mask. Her lip, already split, quivered for a second, then set firm. She said nothing. Not a word. Not a whimper. We'd been at this for an eternity, but it was probably only an hour—an hour of relentless questioning, of escalatin