"Let's see how you escape from this, Ilya Rocean!" Boris could not help but flare up and the volume of his voice rose. "Even if you kill me.....my pack will make sure to kill you! There are over two thousand warriors stationed in this building! Who will save you now?"
He was immediately slammed back down, his face pressed against the floor near Ilya's boots. But Boris didn't care. He grinned against the cold floor, tasting blood and victory.
Meanwhile, Ilya continued smoking, completely unconcerned.
The alarm continued blaring. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Seconds passed. But, no one came. And Boris's confidence faltered.
Where are they? Why isn't anyone...
"How thoughtful of you to gather them all in one convenient location, might as well be like you digging your own grave." Ilya took another drag, ash falling onto Boris's hair. "For your staff, we also prepared equally... distinguished guests."
Borris looked over lifting his head and met with Ilya's gaze.
