Mrs. Grant was frightened into silence.
Yates Donovan gave her a moment to react. He tilted his head toward the bodyguard, the edge of the blade resting against the man's abdomen. He smiled. "My friend, it was this leg that kicked the door, wasn't it? I didn't get the wrong guy, did I?"
"…" Cold sweat broke out on the bodyguard's brow. He stood frozen, not daring to move an inch.
Yates was satisfied with his reaction. He patted the man's cheek with the bloody knife. "I told you, the patient is resting. Next time, keep your leg under control."
A deathly silence.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I… I heard you."
Only then did Yates Donovan smile and withdraw his hand.
"Mrs. Grant, have you made up your mind?"
His voice was like the whisper of a demon, and goosebumps erupted on Mrs. Grant's skin. She shot him a venomous glare, spat out the word "lunatic," and turned to leave.
Her frantic pace looked more like a desperate escape.
