Chapter Twenty Five

Tapping his hand on the chair's armrest, Zohan sat with his head on his index finger. His eyes bored into the eyes of the man in front of him who sat on his knees. His hands were tied behind his back and blood dripped from his head. His lips were busted and bruises covered half of his body and face making him almost unrecognizable.

His head hung low in front of the tyrant sitting with no intention of mercy to do in this warehouse. Using his legs to tap the thigh of the front man, he put his elbow on his knees and looked at the man. Eye to eye.

“What made you so incapable of being useful?” Zohan asked. His voice was the only sound heard in the silent warehouse.

The man’s head was still hung low, hoping the earth would swallow him. In this world, no one will ever want to be presented this way to Zohan Salvatore unless they wish for a barbaric death.

Zohan awaited the man’s reply yet nothing.

He looked down and smirked. His hair fell from his eyes. “I don’t appreciate such a late answ