Before anyone could react, Evan sprang into action.He lunged forward like a hawk, clamping a hand around Mylo's face and lifting him straight off the ground. Then, he drove Mylo's head into the hood of the car, again and again.Each impact sounded like a sledgehammer crashing down on steel. The hood caved in under the force, denting deeper with every blow.Worse was Mylo's face. Blood and torn skin smeared together, his features beaten so badly, they were almost unrecognizable.Everyone went rigid. Artemisia stared, stunned. So did Mylo's men—eyes wide, mouths hanging open.Who would've thought the prey would strike the hunter? And who would've imagined Evan would move so fast and act so ruthlessly?They hadn't even processed what was happening before Mylo's face had turned into a mangled mess.These were men who lived with knives at their throats, killers who survived by being crueler than the next guy. Next to Evan, however, they suddenly felt tame."You're dead, kid! Yo
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