The rest of the crowd was petrified, huddled in the shadows, too scared to even breathe too loudly lest they draw Liam's wrath upon themselves.
However, Billie was not like the rest. Even from her hiding spot, she was on her phone, her voice shrill with panic as she called her dad.
"Dad, please! You've got to come now! He's going to kill me! Dad, hurry!"
Billie's body shook with fear, her excess weight jiggling as she watched Samara lying motionless on the floor. Her eyes locked on Liam, terror-stricken, as she tried to bury herself further into the crowd.
The group, trembling in the corner, watched as Billie frantically tried to blend in with them while Liam, radiating deadly intent, advanced on them. The primal urge to survive kicked in and the person beside Billie shoved her away, hurling insults.
"Ah! Billie, stay away, don't you dare get me killed!"
"Damn, Billie, move it and get out of here! Leave us out of it! Liam, it's Billie and Samara who messed with Celena, not us!"
Meanwhile, downstairs at the hotel, a fleet of about twenty black sedans rolled up to the entrance, effectively sealing it off.
The sound of car doors slamming echoed as a swarm of tough-looking enforcers armed with bats and blades leaped out, each one exuding menace. A middle-aged man in a gray suit led them, casually smoking beside his car.
The hotel manager, who had been knocked around earlier, recognized the man and hobbled over, bowing deeply and exclaiming with a mix of respect and anger, "Mr. Wakelin!"
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