Upon hearing what David just said Ethan just shakes his head.
"No exceptions,"
Ethan said coldly, his voice carrying lethal precision.
"Continue."
Hearing what Ethan just said, the security started walking closer.
The elite group immediately dropped to their knees, designer labels hitting concrete.
Marcus's Armani suit, worth more than a regular person's monthly salary, immediately began shredding against the rough pavement.
Halfway through the tortuous journey, Marcus's perfectly styled hair hung in sweaty strings around his face.
His manicured hands were raw and bleeding.
He turned toward Ethan, trying to summon his family authority despite being four of them.
"You're finished!"
he snarled, though his voice cracked pathetically.
"When we leave here our families would come for you just wait and see, I would–"
