| Russian Fucker

𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘

I went to stand right in the middle of the three warehouses, making myself the easiest fucking target ever by holding my arms out wide. "We're here. So, come on out so we can get this over with. I have a delicious home-cooked meal waiting for me, and I'm fucking starving."

Four men came walking out of the warehouse on the right. From the corner of my eye, I saw James with his elbow firmly placed on the roof of the car, his gun already aimed. Lucian was two steps behind me when more men surfaced from the warehouses across from us. One of those men was the fucker with the big mouth who barked out orders the other night.

"Mr. Bologna. You're late."

I smirked. "You can't rush greatness."

Lucian snorted behind me.