Liam jumped down from the table as the girls all slowly stood up, their wide eyes filled with disbelief and fear. The silence that followed the gunfire was almost deafening, the only sounds left were the heavy breathing of the women and the faint groans of the dying men. The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and blood. Luckily, none of the girls had been hit. Not that Liam had cared—his focus had been on one thing alone: eliminating every single enemy in the room. Collateral damage had never crossed his mind.
Amanda's head popped out from behind a table, her eyes scanning the masked figure who had just saved them. But it was obvious that she did not recognize him. How could she? The man before them looked like something out of a nightmare—clad in black, armed to the teeth, and carrying himself with a lethal air. If anything, he looked like a terrorist or a masked executioner sent to wipe out the scum in this place. He didn't even glance at her, not even for a second.
