Scarface’s lips curled into a snarl, but I could see the fear in his eyes. His men were already sprawled across the floor, they were groaning in pain and some were completely unconscious. He was alone now, he had no backup for anyone to hide behind.
I walked closer to him. I cracked my knuckles. "You’re still not talking?" I asked.
He exhaled. He was trying to act tough. "There’s nothing to talk about," he spat.
I nodded slowly. "Alright, then."
Without warning, I grabbed the metal chair next to me and swung it. I didn't meant to sla**med it into his legs, but mistakenly kn**k**g him onto his knees. He gasped in pain, as he gripped his shin. Before he could react, I grabbed his collar and pulled him up from the ground. I forced him to meet my eyes.
"You see, I don’t have time for yo
