The room only became hotter and hotter for the chief of police who stood there drenched in his sweat.
Prudence could not say or do anything this time. She knew well to not meddle with Vincent. The Mafia king had been kind to even offer to spare the man's life. If Vincent had acted the way Prudence had imagined him to be, then two heads would roll on the floor right now: the chief of police and Mr Weasley. "I do not have all day chief," Vincent did not make any big deal out of it, "you must know my day does not have enough time for me to wait and make the choices. I usually tend to go with what comes to my mind first."
Not a single other person in that room dared to move or disturb His Grace.
