"Are you done telling jokes?"
Johan stared at Jack Brooks, his face twisting into a sneer of disbelief. The idea that this live-in son-in-law was demanding thirty million dollars and three of his legs was so absurd it barely registered as a threat.
"Dog thing, I think you're tired of living," Johan spat, ash from his cigar falling onto his expensive suit. "You want to reincarnate early? Fine. I'll send you on your way."
He gestured to the dozen armed bodyguards surrounding the car.
"Did you hear him?" Johan laughed coldly. "He wants your legs. He thinks this is a martial arts movie where one hero fights an army. Wake up! Look around you! Count the blades!"
Johan’s eyes narrowed, shifting his gaze to Tia Sutton, who was trembling by the car door.
"Break his limbs," Johan ordered casua
