(Niko’s POV)The hallway still smelled like gunpowder.Smoke curled lazily through the emergency lights, drifting over the bodies sprawled across the marble floor. Somewhere deeper in the mansion, gunfire still echoed in distant bursts, followed by shouted orders.War wasn’t over.It had only moved to another floor.Dmitri Volkov stepped over a body like it was an inconvenience.He glanced down briefly.“Spanish?” he asked, nudging a body with his boot.Alessio nodded once.Dmitri sighed dramatically.“God, I hate those Espanols.”I stared at him.“You just shot two of them thirty seconds ago.”“Yes,” Dmitri replied thoughtfully. “But now I’m annoyed.”He walked further into the hallway, inspecting the damage like a man evaluating poorly done renovations.His boots stopped beside the Spanish leader’s body.He crouched. He tilted his head and then whistled.“Oh, this one was expensive.”Alessio’s voice was cold.“Stand up.”Dmitri looked over his shoulder with a grin.“You used to say
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