Insanely insane
he whispered, almost to himself, “…then blood will answer for tears.”
One of his men dared to speak. “Boss, should we—”
“Silence,” Ishtiyaq snapped, his voice cracking like a whip. The sharpness in it reminded everyone who he truly was—the predator, the shadow that ruled the darker side of the city.
Aariz.
The storm in his cousin’s eyes was enough to make the men choke on his words and excuse himself hurriedly, leaving the two alone.
Ishtiyaq smirked, pretending to stay casual. “Aariz,” he said smoothly, “long time. I was just about to—”
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