Chapter 3 - Manager Panic And The Staring Eyes Of Bodyguards

Across the room, my manager was turning a pale, sickly shade of green while whispering frantically into his cordless telephone. The surrounding bodyguards shifted their weight, their hands hovering dangerously close to the tailored wool of their suit jackets where heavy iron rested.
"Boss, we should move," the man with the broken nose warned quietly, casting a suspicious glare in my direction. Dante didn't blink, raising one gloved hand with the black dragon tattoo curling over his knuckles to silence his most trusted lieutenant instantly.
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