Refusing to back down, Dax stepped closer, chest puffed up like he was compensating for something, probably his height. Frankly, his face was the real issue.
My guards instinctively stepped back, which only fed his swelling ego.
Typical mob-thug energy—loud, reckless, and completely forgettable, the kind of character I tend to roll my eyes at when watching anime.
But at the same time, I couldn't help thinking I was paying my guards for decoration. They were about as useful as a screen door on a submarine, good for show, terrible when it actually mattered.
"It's not wise to talk to us like that, Mr. Mercer. You don't want to join your father too soon," he warned while still maintaining his arrogant tone.
They all laughed, thinking they found the soft spot, the magic button that would make me snap.
I leaned in just slightly, close enough for him to see just how much shit I cared about Daniel. Which was nothing.
