“How… How dare you hit me?!” The Cobra rubbed his head in disbelief.
His hand was covered in blood. In the years since he had taken over South City, no one had dared disrespect him, much less hit him with a bottle.
This fool must have a death wish!
“Sir Draco, take my advice... Let it go...” said Dustin calmly.
“F*ck you! I’m telling you, you’re dead meat! I’m going to rip you apart!” the Cobra cursed and swore as he returned to his senses.
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