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    Summary

    Monoco looked a wreck. He didn't tend to preen himself beyond the bare minimum that was required, preferring to wake up, shower, and throw his hair back into a tie tight enough to last the day and for his duties at the Grace. Here, now, it was all out of place, his tie gone or broken and his hair sticking to his jaw in places. With alarm, Gustave noticed the cut and the bruises to his neck. The pink hue that had dyed some parts of his hair, the blood on his shirt—

    "It's not mine," came the gruff response, breaking the silence. Gustave couldn't stop his flinch either way, coming into the room proper to approach his gruff partner. "It belongs to some fucking bastards. Slipped something in his drink."

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
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