Saffron can see it in his eyes, the moment he gives up. She'd hoped he'd have fought it a bit longer, held out defiantly against her attack a little more. But she's satisfied she's gotten her message across to him, and that's what matters.

She kept her hands on his throat until she could see him slipping away. Then she released him abruptly, punched him hard enough to send him the rest of the way into unconsciousness, and slipped off of him, leaving him naked, handcuffed and blacked out.

Slipping quickly into her clothes with a practiced ease, Saffron took a final look at Molokov, at her handiwork, and gave a cold, humorless smile before walking out of his apartment and heading home.