The insult hung in the air like poison.
One of the men flinched, finger twitching on the trigger. Another shifted uncomfortably.
They'd faced threats before—arrogant men, desperate men, even men with nothing to lose. But Ross Oakley wasn't like any of them.
He was calm. Too calm.
It wasn't just confidence—it was something colder. Like he already knew how this would end, and none of them mattered.
Inside the control room, Thomas watched the live feed in silence. He could feel the tension through the screen. And the worst part?
Ross hadn't even drawn a weapon…
And still, he was the most dangerous man on the field.
A few tense breaths passed in absolute silence. The kind of silence that presses against your ears, heavy and stifling.
On the monitors, Ross Oakley stood still, hands calmly at his sides, eyes unwavering.
Thomas stared at the screen, calculating. Weighing the risks. This wasn't some idiot off the street.
