making them penetrate Berkleigh’s conscience with an added weight. 

“You need to clean whatever lenses you're looking through to see the world. Grimaldi is nothing like The Professor,” Berkleigh spat as she noticed to her dismay she was once again restrained, this time by ropes and strips of cloth holding her wrists to the arms of the chair. 

“I’m afraid you are the one who needs to acknowledge your blindspots and correct them before they send you to an early grave…,” the Contessa admonished as the Professor began to stir. 

“It appears our little game is about to begin. Welcome, Professor. As you no doubt are surmising, I decided to turn down your peace offering…,” the Contessa’s voi...

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