"I'm fine," I assured him, though the blood dripping from my hand told a different story.
Dave's eyes widened in alarm as he finally noticed the wound. "s**t! You need to get that treated," he insisted urgently.
"Pass me your handkerchief," I instructed Dave, who complied without hesitation. With swift efficiency, I tied it tightly around the wound to stem the bleeding.
"We had no other choice," one of the men on the ground spoke up, his voice trembling slightly. "He was going to kill us too if we went against his orders."
"Who are we talking about?" I demanded, turning my attention to the dark-haired man who had mustered the courage to speak up.
"Mr. Ricci," the dark-haired man replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's our boss."
Of course, this had something to do with the m
