When Elias Vance stepped out the door, Dante Russo didn't dare even glance at him. He lowered his head slightly, holding his breath and keeping perfectly still, as though mere eye contact might provoke something irreversible.
Elias said coolly, "A man with your skills is wasting his talents here. If you're interested in something better, call this number."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Elias sent a business card flying through the air. It struck the expensive wooden door with a sharp thunk, embedding itself three inches deep into the solid wood.
To throw a business card with such force that it sank into hardwood, such a display of controlled power sent a chill down Dante's spine, and his body began to tremble involuntarily. He didn't move until the sound of Elias's footsteps faded c
