Theo watched the gang of thugs stalking toward him, each step deliberate, like wolves circling wounded prey. He darted a quick glance back at Ivansia's family huddled at the foot of the stairs.
"Hide. I'll handle this," he whispered sharply, his voice low but edged with steel.
The biggest of the thugs stepped forward, a wicked machete gleaming under the dim lights.
He barked out a demand, his voice booming. "Hand over the money! Do that, and we'll protect your house from the angry mob outside!"
Theo let out a short, scornful laugh. "Protect this place? You ten scrawny idiots think you can hold back hundreds of furious people out there? Look at yourselves—barely enough muscle to lift those weapons you're waving."
The thug's face twisted, veins bulging at his temples as rage colored his expression red. "Kill this bastard!" he roared.
