Upon hearing the harsh voice, Lysander Lawson's expression changed drastically. "This is bad. They must have tracked me down here," he whispered urgently. "Whatever happens next, please do not get involved. I will handle this burden myself."
Elias Vance took a slow sip of his premium liquor, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he said nothing. Albert Monroe glanced at the young man, and seeing Elias remain completely unfazed, the elder merely nodded in agreement.
The door was suddenly kicked open, revealing a group of vicious thugs blocking the exit. The leader was a heavily built man with aggressive, scarred flesh and a thick neck covered in tattoos.
"Well, if it is not Lysander. You slipped away this afternoon, but you cannot run this time," Owen Rowe sneered. He pulled out a chair, slam
