Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress
His face contorts into a scowl, I hold up three fingers, and he gives me a curt nod, gesturing his understanding, and he turns to the agent.
“Code black. Three bombs.” He announces calmly. “Code black, three bombs.” He repeats louder when the agent looks like he has trouble understanding Ryan.
The agent's face drops, he scratches the back of his head as he tries to mask the sheer terror on his face.
A moment later, he turns around and starts yelling out orders. The FBI agents scurry when they've been given their tasks to carry out. Their boots drum along the corridors like the sound of heavy rain.
Ryan takes me by the hand, and he examines me with his eyes. “I’m fine,” I tell him, lying thro
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