"Did you accomplish what I wanted?" A deep, commanding voice echoed through the dimly lit room. The figure of a man seated in a leather chair was barely visible, his silhouette illuminated only by the faint glow of a single bulb. One leg was crossed over the other.
"I'm sorry, but the bullet hit Lucius instead," the shooter stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
The man silently reached for the burning cigar resting in the ashtray. Bringing it to his lips, he took a long drag. He exhaled a thick puff of smoke, leaning his head back as if pondering the gravity of the situation. "You hurt the wrong person," he finally said.
"Please forgive me, Sir," the shooter begged, his head bowed low. He knelt on the floor, his hands resting on his thighs in a submissive posture. "This is the first time I've ever made a mistake. I swear it won't happen again. Please spare me this once."
