Rodriguez sat on the sofa with Genevieve, who wanted to ask him something. Genevieve herself looked completely broken.
Her once beautiful long hair that was always brushed neatly now sat like a birds best on top of her head. Her face that used to shine with pride now looked dull and colorless. She once wore dresses fit to be worn by queens, but now she looked like she had just returned from a farm. Dirty clothes and no shoes.
Her eyes that once radiated power, now we're swollen and red, probably from crying.
Rodriguez had allowed her to stay on his territory under one strict condition; she would never talk about freeing Alfa.
"You wanted to talk?" Rodriguez asked, his eyes staring at her.
They both had a cup of coffee that was getting cold.
Rodriguez had heard from his people that Genevieve hadn't been eating at all. She hadn't had a meal in a week. No wonder she looked like a bag of boned.
