"Uncle, please, I'm begging you," Maxwell stammered, his voice trembling with desperation. His knees buckled as he clung to Lucius's legs. "I swear, I'll never go near Roderick again. I didn't mean to hurt him, I promise. I just lost control. A few punches… that's all I intended."
Lucius loomed over him, his piercing gaze colder than the steel barrel pressed against Maxwell's chin.
"Boss," Aiden interjected cautiously, glancing at his phone. "Roderick's throwing a fit. Roger's been sending messages nonstop. He says you should let Maxwell go," he added with unease.
Lucius's jaw tightened as his grip on the gun steadied and his voice dripped with menace. "And what guarantee do I have," he growled, his finger hovering dangerously close to the trigger, "that you won't lose your temper and try to harm my nephew again?"