Goosebumps rise on Jessamae's skin like a warning signal. It's Ferlins. The sociopathic maniac.
His aged and identifiable voice meanders through the speaker. "What, no appreciation for the help? Honestly, Hanzo, I'm disappointed. Alistair's demise – problem solved. Why the distress?"
"I won't say it again," Hanzo growls, his grip on the device tightening, his palms turning white. "Keep away from her."
For a moment, Jessamae fears the device may break under his hold, but it remains intact.
"I suppose I'm not invited to the celebration?"
Hanzo removes the phone from his ear, his expression a mix of fury and exhaustion. Abruptly, without offering a farewell, he terminates the call.
"Well said," Jessamae mutters with a shake of her head. "He's despicable."
Hanzo turns to her, a strange
