“I thought that would have been quite obvious. I am doing this, Armand, because I want you to know what it’s like for someone to know you. And though you’re not a particularly unique specimen in this city…Well. I don’t see why you should go unpunished.” Moretti shut his eyes and wept. “This is what it is, Armand,” whispered the voice of the man in black. “To be a slave. To be owned. To be a thing. Do you wish it to stop?”
