Liam took a single step forward, his expression blank, his eyes cold, and his entire presence exuding an eerie confidence that sent shivers down the spines of the men in front of him, yet the thug holding Ann hostage, too consumed by his own arrogance and false sense of control, did not hesitate to press the blade of his axe even closer to her delicate throat, the sharp metal grazing her smooth skin ever so slightly, enough to make her stiffen but not enough to draw blood—at least not yet—as the man let out a low chuckle, fully believing that he held the ultimate advantage in this moment, completely unaware of the storm that was brewing in the depths of Liam's darkened gaze.
"You take another step, and I'll cut her throat open right in front of you," the thug hissed, his grip tightening around Ann's waist as she struggled to remain calm despite the sheer terror surging through her veins, her wide eyes darting towards Liam in desperation.
