Sure enough, my lack of response provokes him. I can see the flare of rage in his eyes. Majid Ben-Harid thrives on the fear and misery of others. I understand that about him because I’m the same way. And because we’re such kindred souls, I know how to spoil the fun for him. He’s going to destroy my body, but he won’t enjoy it quite as much as he’d like.

I won’t let him.

It’s small consolation for the fact that I’m going to die a torturous death, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment.

His smug smile gone, Majid steps toward me. “I see you’re not up for chitchat,” he says, bringing a large butcher knife up to my face. “Let’s cut to the chase then.” He runs the tip of the blade down my cheek, cutting just deep enough for blood to run down my chin in a thin trickle. “You give me the location of your explosive factory, as well as all the security details, and I—” he leans so close that I can see the black of his pupils in the mud-brown irises of his eyes, “—I will make your death quick. If you don’t… well, I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on the alternative. What do you say? Do you want to make it easy for us or hard? Because the outcome will be the same either way.”

I don’t respond, and I don’t flinch away, not even when that blade continues its painful, cutting journey down my neck, chest, and stomach, leaving a bloody trail wherever it touches my skin.

It doesn’t matter what I choose because Majid has no intention of honoring any promises he makes to me. He’ll never give me a quick death—not even if I hand-deliver the explosive to him tomorrow. I’ve caused too much damage to Al-Quadar over the past few months, foiled too many of their plans. As soon as I give him what he wants, he’ll take me apart in the most excruciating manner possible, just to show his troops how he metes out punishment to those who cross him.

That’s what I would do in his place, at least.

The knife stops just below my ribs, the sharp point digging into my flesh, and I can see Majid’s eyes gleaming with vicious pleasure. “Well?” he whispers, pressing it in a fraction of an inch. “Play or no play, Esguerra? It’s really up to you. I can begin by harvesting some organs, just to make it extra profitable for us—or if you’d prefer, I can start lower, with your wife’s favorite part…”

I suppress an instinctive male urge to shudder at that last bit and keep my expression calm, almost amused. I know he won’t do anything too damaging at first—because if he did, I would bleed out right away. I’ve already lost too much blood, so it won’t take much to send me under. The last thing Majid would want is to deprive himself of a conscious victim. If he’s serious about getting that explosive, he’ll have to start small and work up to the brutality he just threatened me with.