A group of people dressed in black surged into the room. Finnian Moore, for the moment, dared not act rashly. He motioned the men in black to back down as his gaze fixed on the silhouette by the French windows.
"Rafferty, you finally show yourself."
A figure slowly emerged from behind the curtains, standing tall and elegant. His usually gentle brows, however, were clouded with frostiness.
The man narrowed his eyes, "Peter Aria."
"Thirteen years ago, where is Nikita Parker?"
Rafferty quirked an eyebrow, "So, Mr. Aria, you're a romantic after all. It's been more than a decade, yet you're still entangled in your past love. How touching."
Peter Aria raised his pistol, aiming straight at Rafferty's head, "I'll ask you again, where is Nikita Parker?"
Rafferty had somewhat feminine features. At a glance, he appeared delicate, with slender eyes that slightly hooked at the ends. When he looked at someone, his gaze held both a captivating depth and a deadly coldness.
