The silence that followed was unbearable.
The air stank of blood, bile, and burned nerves.
Two corpses lay behind Mika—one disemboweled like a slaughtered pig, the other collapsed beneath him, strangled lifeless with entrails still looped tight around his throat, his expensive dress soaked red.
And Mika stood motionless between them. The blood on his hands was beginning to dry in patches.
And then like someone finishing a bit of casual yardwork and wondering who else needed help, his gaze passed over the remaining bodyguards, one by one.
Each man stiffened.
One of them,a younger man, barely older than Ravis had been made a soft noise in his throat. He trembled. His legs gave out slightly.
And then...a dark patch spread down the front of his pants. The liquid patted against the floor beneath him.
He'd pissed himself.
But none of the others laughed. Not a single one.
Because every one of them was staring into death.
They were certain—certain—they were next.
