"Tear that fucking tongue out of his mouth!" the young man roared, the veins in his neck bulging with hysterical fury. "I want him on his knees, begging for his life before he goes over that railing!"
The air on the terrace instantly turned suffocating.
Two men broke from either side of the semicircle. They lowered their weapons, drawing heavy combat knives from their belts as they closed the distance with disciplined, synchronized strides, intending to pin the old man against the balustrade and carve him apart.
"Oh, come on now, young man," Cole sighed, raising his empty hands in mock defense. "There's no need to get so offended. I was only telling the truth..."
The two hitmen didn't care about his excuses. They lunged together... one driving low to sweep Cole's knees, the other thrusting a blade straight toward his collarbone to pin him down.
Seeing them lunge, the easy amusement vanished from Cole's face, replaced by a sudden, icy stillness.
