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I lowered my hand and aimed the gun straight down before I slipped my finger around the trigger and fired.
Bang!
The asshole behind me screamed, shoving me hard. I shoved my hands out, frantically trying to stop the blow. Still, I slammed into the edge of the table so hard a moan ripped free.
“You fucking bi—” The gunman behind me started.
Bang!
He never finished before London shot him, striding around the long boardroom table in the middle of the room. “Want to keep going?” he roared, swinging the muzzle of the gun around the room, stopping on the piece of shit who had to be Julius Harmon.
Because the bastard turned a weird shade of ash.
“You okay, kitten?” London captured my chin, turning my gaze to his.
He searched my eyes for the truth. I winced, but gave a nod. My hands had taken most of the impact, my hips the rest as I’d turned at the last minute, shielding my stomach from the blow. “Yes.”
He gave a nod, then turned on the others. “Any more surprises?”
The other four men sitting at the table gave frantic shakes of their heads.
“Good,” London crooned. “Very good.”
A chill swept along the nape of my neck at his tone. I’d seen him in action before, seen him dangerous, seen him deadly even. But this…this was a whole new level of chilling as he lifted his boot and rested it on Julius Harmon’s armrest, his gun dangling down.
“I don’t want to kill anyone else…but I will.” He narrowed in on the object of his wrath. “I will do whatever it takes to protect my family, as I’m sure you would. Isn’t that right, Julius?”
The piece of shit in front of him opened his mouth to speak. “What the fuck are you saying?”
London just gave a shrug, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Just what I said. After all…family is everything.” He pressed a button, listening to it ring on the other end before Carven answered it.
“Carven.” London stared at Julius. “Please show Mr. Harmon how serious we are?”
Muffled moans came through in the background. I glimpsed dark shadows before the camera panned around.
“Katie?” Julius barked.
The gagged woman tied to a chair came awake in an instant. Her eyes bugged wide.
Moans came from Julius. Gasps of utter terror from the other four men around him were simultaneous.
“Now, we let her know you’d be late getting home tonight,” London murmured, then lifted his gaze to the other men. “All of your wives…”
“What the fuck?” one asshole barked.
“Veronica Andrews, red-haired, five foot six, drives a black Range Rover, license plate number—”
“Enough!” he roared, gripping the armrest beside him. “Just enough!”
London met every gaze of the men sitting around the table. “They won’t be harmed, not your wives or your children, as long as you do what I say.”
“Motherfucker.” Another stared daggers at the man who wouldn’t blink twice at ending their miserable fucking lives. But he wouldn’t touch a hair on their wives’ or their children’s heads.
Now, Carven.
Carven was a whole other matter.
“Now that we’re well acquainted with each other, I’ll tell you why I’m here,” London murmured.
