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She starts moaning low in her throat, the pain getting to her as I use the tip of the blade to dig a tiny hole right over the swell of her left breast.

The moans turn to screams as I proceed to remove a sizable chunk of flesh, a hollow remaining in her breast. There's minimal bleeding, the cut sharp and efficient.

"Mhm, hell girl, now those surgical skills." He brings his fingers to his lips in a kissing sound, approving of my method.

"Let's try again," I say, giving her a small respite from the pain, since I do have some grand plans for her. All of which will include some of the things I'd suffered through over the years. "Tell me about Miles," I repeat.

She directs her malicious gaze toward me, and for a moment I doubt she'll cooperate. But as her body starts slowly shaking—from fear or pain—I know I have her.

"He coordinates the transplants," she mumbles, almost choking on her words. "He provides the facilities and the medical personnel," she continues and I look up to meet Vlad's gaze.

The words are unspoken. It's exactly as we'd theorized.

"And who is in charge of the financial side?" I ask, noting Vlad's small nod of approval at my question.

"I don't know…" She shakes her head. "I swear. I've only been dealing with a few people who are his intermediaries. They are the ones who oversee the logistics, while Miles deals with the actual transplants."

"Who are the intermediaries, then?"

Her eyes skitter around the room before she utters two names.

"Guerra and Lastra," she whispers, and my own eyes widen.

I quickly look up to see Vlad sport the same expression of disbelief, especially after Marcello had assured us that Guerra's financials were in order.

"Maybe Benedicto isn't as transparent as he wants to appear," Vlad comments from the corner.

"Benedicto?" Mother Superior frowns, "No, no. Not Benedicto. Franco Guerra and Nicolo Lastra. Those were the ones who coordinated everything that happened here," she says.

"Now, that," Vlad comes around me, placing his hand on my shoulder, "I believe. But both are dead now, so who are you in contact with?" He raises an eyebrow.

Mother Superior blinks rapidly, surprised she'd been caught in that one loophole.

Her entire body becomes rigid, her lips pursed as she refuses to keep talking.

"Interesting," Vlad notes, silently urging me to continue.

Standing up, I move around the altar, noting the various items placed on the table. A devious smile appears on my face as I have the exact method to make her talk.

Taking an old oil lamp from the table, I disassemble it, seeing there is some oil left inside. Then, picking up a lit candle, I once again plop myself in front of Mother Superior.

The hole in her chest is angry looking, but it's not deep enough to reach the bone.

That will be solved soon.

"Fuck, hell girl, you sure know how to give me a hard-on," he groans from the side, eyeing the items in my hands and anticipating what I have in mind.

Mother Superior just stares at me in horror as she's trying to understand, but only when I start pouring the oil in the wound does she realize what I have planned for her.

"No," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'll tell you," she continues, thrashing against her bonds.

It's a little too late as the moment the oil fills the hole in her chest to the brim, I bring the flame of the candle over it, watching the entire thing ignite.

Screams of pain inundate the church as the fire eats at her flesh. I don't even want to imagine the agony she must be going through as heat spreads through her body, the flame burning through her pain receptors and making her break into a sweat, her breath coming out in short spurts.

"Michele," she heaves, "Michele Guerra," she finally says, and I blow into the fire, putting it out momentarily.

She slumps down, her breathing erratic as she's trying to control herself. Her entire body is convulsing, entirely covered in sweat, her eyes almost rolling to the back of her head.