~ Niamh ~
"What the bloody hell did you just say?" Massimo snarled, his voice low, and full of a prehistoric kind of rage that made the hair on my arms stand up.
I watched, my breath hitching in my throat, as Massimo's fingers dug into Nikolai's neck like iron talons, hoisting him off the ground.
Nikolai's expensive leather shoes dangled inches off the dusty ground, kicking uselessly at the air as his hands flailed, trying to pry Massimo's grip loose, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
Nikolai's face went from a cocky, disgusting smirk to a deep shade of purple. His eyes bulged, the whites of them turning bloodshot as his mouth hung open, gasping for a breath that Massimo wouldn't grant him.
The metallic clack-clack-clack of a hundred guns being cocked filled the silence of the clearing like a thunderclap. The Romanov soldiers leveled their submachine guns at the Valentino front line, and in a heartbeat, our men mirrored the move.
