+Chapter 413+

Angelo had unfortunately swallowed some, and as someone who had never smoked before, it made him cough until he went lightheaded and fell over.

This hadn't been Nikolai's intention but he couldn't wrench his eyes away. Angelo was usually frosty cold, his face expressionless, his lips pale and bloodless.

But after his coughing fit, color had bled into his cheeks and Nikolai found himself unable to look away.

"For an assassin, you were quickly defeated by a little cigar smoke." He leaned close to say when Angelo finally stopped coughing.

The Beta glared at him but his coughing fit had made his eyes glassy, diminishing the effect considerably.

Nikolai fought the urge to laugh. How could he kill off the assassin? He was very entertaining.

"Is that going to be the case with alcohol as well?" He kept speaking, not caring that Angelo hadn't given a response.