The pathetic shadow was caused on the wooden floor due to the lights outside, surrounding the walls of the villa, as soon as Niall banged open the door, by thrusting his right shoulder to break the lock directly.
Ronan didn't intend to hurt any one of those thugs rather just scare them away, but when he had entered a horrible sight was waiting for him to witness. One of those thugs was sitting on a rocking chair, which had been in the use of his wife earlier and now some stinky ass was resting on it.
The sight flared up a wave of anger within Ronan, and it was enough to trigger his rage, how unlucky he was, to get into the trouble at the hands of the most terrifying man yet his facial expressions didn't change rather Ronan rummaged into the inner pocket of his fur coat which had a special lining to serve as the treasure trunk for his weapons.
Ronan pulled out something sharp from his pocket and threw it at the thug within a certain angle effortlessly, without even moving an inch practically when the thug who seemed to be their chief began to react by uttering a question in an impudent tone.
"You talk too much!"
To the surprise of the thug, a figure emerged from the front ingress, the tall man commented on the utterance of the thug, his voice laced with disgust having no trace of mercy, as he stopped right in front of him a few steps away, with his silvery greyish eyes penetrating onto his face, whilst Ronan's men held down other thugs.
The man crouched down onto the wooden floor and the bottle of whiskey dropped from his hand, it seemed as if the celebration of some victory was going on because he table in the center of the down hall was loaded with bottles of expensive wines and a big bag, it was predictably the looted money and jewellery.
It was visible from his teary eyes that how pain was circulating in his body and that blade attack possibly had destroyed the lining of his mouth let alone the only piercing of his tongue, due to the great speed with which the mafiya king had thrown the blade.
"You shouldn't have acted that bold enough to touch my things."
Ronan strode towards the man whom he had earlier shot with his blade, that had four sharp spikes.
It was all the great Ronan Ross used to carry around as his 'weaponry item' and acknowledging how much of a terrifying and fearsome individual he was, it was certainly not a justice to his image to carry just a few blades on him, but again who would have thought that it was more than enough for him precisely an additional weight to him!
Ronan leaned in, his lifeless eyes seemed more terrifying, his tall silhouette hovered over the thug.
"Niall?"
The mafiya king stretched his hand out to signal his right hand man, who reacted immediately and rummaged out white gloves out of his shoulder holster, which had his gun other than the accessory of special gloves.
"Master."
Niall shoved the gloves towards Ronan who took them, his eyes shifted towards his own hands. Niall wanted to stop his master from ruining his hands with the blood when he was there to do all the task but now it was a matter related to his beloved wife, he could sense deep down that how much his master had missed his wife.
The thug wanted to run but his legs were trembling and body went numb, he knew even if he tried to escape from the cold man in front of him, the other men would sure load his body with countless bullets, who were already holding the pals of the thug by collars and wrists, each men had his one hand placed on the mouths of chief's friends.
The chief could sense the pores of Ronan's men clawing into the skin of his. Either way he was close to his imminent death after realizing that the tall man in front of him wasn't someone whom he could mess at all, but the unlucky soul had already did.
The mafiya king finished his activity of wearing the gloves and clasped the chief's hair, the thug tried to wriggle out of his grip but the more he struggled, it got worse and painful, he moved his hand to the blade which was stuck at the end of his mouth and miraculously he was still alive even after getting a lethal attack by Ronan.
Ronan grabbed his hand and shook it off, while keeping the thug into the place, who was barely restraining himself from moving his jaw because the blade seemed very small but as it was used by Ronan, who had never missed a shot, the mere small weapon landed straight into his mouth, just a few inches above his tracheal opening.
"Still not giving up?"
The ruthless king placed his mammoth hand beneath the chin of the thug, who shook his head in a NO, while his mouth was still open and by now was spurting saliva combined with blood stream.
Without delayed it any further he forcefully closed the mouth of the thug, who instantly died, maybe without even breathing his last. Ronan knew which angle he was supposed to use, so that the blade would destroy his mouth completely along with slashing the tracheal cord, he freed his dead body from his grip and it fell onto the floor near his feet, the bulging teary eyes were staring at Ronan's feet.
After doing the task he moved towards the small kitchen and took off his gloves, opened the cabinet which was under the wash basin and threw them. He was about to turn around to give further instructions to his men about how to punish the other thugs, when the right pocket of his denim vibrated and buzzed.
"What is it?"
Ronan cut the other person short, giving him the hint that he was currently busy, maybe the person held some importance in his life that he bothered to choose some 'decent' words to talk.
"Ronan Ross, the girl I told you about, she is in New York. Amaris is alive and she is in New York!"
The man on the other side chirped in a happy tone, as if he was announcing Ronan the greatest news of his life. Maybe it would have been, if it had any trace of truth and reality.
"You are again at it? Visit a psychiatrist, Amaris is dead. It's been six years now, get that in your thick skull!"
Ronan squeezed the place within his both eyes on the top of his beautiful pointy nose and heaved a sigh of helplessness which had a tinge of sadness in it, while he lowered his head.
•••
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