"Everything went according to plan," Laz thought, his gaze fixed on the unconscious man slumped before him.
Laz wasn't one for forgiveness—especially not for men like this. For a moment, a dark thought flickered across his mind: shooting Chelsea, just to watch Delancie drown in misery.
He smirked, his voice a sneer. "You think I didn't know you were a sniper, Delancie?"
Delancie's eyes widened, panic creeping into her features.
"When I shot you, I aimed for the mole on your neck," he continued, his tone cold and deliberate. "The moment I saw you, I knew it was you."
Her breathing quickened as he leaned closer. "What were you planning to do to my woman, Delancie? When you knew I'd recognize you the second I laid eyes on you?"
Her throat tightened, her voice trembling. "I—I—"
