Prophecy

89

In the dimly lit room, the tension was almost palpable. Marco, bound and bruised, glared defiantly at Viktor, who paced before him like a storm brewing on the horizon. Darien stood to the side, his presence a silent testament to the seriousness of the situation.

Viktor finally stopped pacing and faced Marco directly, his voice cold. "You took something irreplaceable from me, Gentile. One of my best, killed in cold blood. And the money you cost me... Millions, Marco. You've gone too far."

Marco, despite his predicament, smirked. "Your man was in my way. What did you expect me to do? Roll out the red carpet?"

Viktor's fist clenched at his side, his anger barely contained. "You could've chosen a dozen different paths, yet you chose war. Now, you'll pay the price."

Marco rolled his eyes, his disdain for Viktor evident. "Oh, I'm trembling."

Viktor nodded to one of his men. Without a word, two burly figures stepped forward, their hands forming fists. What followed was a brutal demonstrat
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