The son of a bitch chuckled. “You think I care about you or your faggot ways?” He leaned toward the door. “Guard. Guard, get me out of here.” “No. You get to stay. You haven’t asked me the identity of the man I love.” He stood and walked around, standing behind Antonio’s chair. And Stavros unbuckled his belt. “Guard! Guard!” “The cameras are off. The guards are gone.” He looped the belt around Antonio’s neck, wrapped both ends in his fist and pulled. “Ask me the name of the man I love.”
