It had been ten days since Kate had left his side. Bastien walked confidently toward a room in the filthiest hotel he could find. He opened the door—there was Fabio, with several days’ worth of beard. He’d been running from Bastien. By now, everyone knew Bastien had gone mad because of Fabio’s son. He had completely destroyed two organizations in search of him and that impostor. The city was in chaos; everyone feared being attacked by Bastien. He was merciless.

One of those organizations had given up Fabio’s whereabouts, buying themselves some time. But Bastien’s rage would only be calmed once they handed Richard over to him... and once he found the one woman who could soothe him. Fabio was trembling in fear; he had already pissed his pants.

Bastien walked in. He wore a black shirt and black pants. He looked like the Angel of Death. He said only three words, in a cold and sepulchral voice:

—Where is Richard?

Fabio stammered:

—I swear I don’t know...

Bastien grabbed his hand and cut it