"Really? Oh come on, I wanted that from you, Laura, but not this early," Dylan said, smiling.
A smile?
Yes, a goddamn smile, even while his best friend was bleeding out and barely hanging on.
Policemen rushed to Allan immediately, one of them pressing hard on the fresh wound with a cloth.
"We'll take him from here," Sam—Dylan's personal guard said quickly, and with haste, they carried Allan's limp body out of the room.
Meanwhile, Ryker and his men stood frozen, surrounded at gunpoint, their usual arrogance stripped away by the looming threat of death. They were still, tense, hands in the air, surrendered.
