"Capo, Lo abbiamo in pugno (Capo, we've got him,)" Leo declared, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of excitement. He was one of Damon's most devoted men, friend, loyal soldier who had proven his worth time and again. As those words reached Damon, a wicked grin spread across his face, a smile that sent shivers down the spines of everyone around. It was a smile that promised chaos, a harbinger of the torment that was about to unfold.

Damon strode purposefully toward the dungeon, his boots echoing ominously against the cold stone floor. The air was thick with tension, and the flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows that danced along the walls. His gaze was fixed on the man tied to the chair, a figure who looked utterly defeated, his disheveled hair and bruised face a testament to the rough handling he had received. A cruel glint sparkled in Damon's eyes, a predatory gleam that made the captive recoil in terror.