He took another slow sip of scotch. The amber liquid catching the light as it swirled in his glass.
Logan was shocked…he hadn't thought it was this big of a deal.
But then, a hateful image flickered into his mind—that bastard's smug, smirking face.
Clenching his fist, he spoke, anger burning in his eyes. "But what about that bastard? Are we going to let him go just like this?"
"What do you think?" Leonard asked, eyes sharpening.
"I want to deal with him myself," Logan snarled. "Get some men. Just enough to scare him. Maybe break something—"
"Fool!"
The word cracked through the air like a whip.
Leonard's expression darkened. "Can't you see what's happening? Someone is clearly targeting us? Someone powerful. And we don't even know who they are or what their motive is—and at this crucial time, here you are, ready to act like a thug in a street fight?"
He paused, letting the silence press down like a weight.
"And we still don't know if that boy has a role in all of this."
