Бладхаунд и машина убийства ;;Closed
Anyone who tells you that Sevastian Feliks Nikolaev is a stand up guy would be absolutely, one hundred percent, lying through bloody teeth. Needless to say, the Russian was ruthless, calculating, and over all tactful.
What he hadn’t expected was how stupid his cohorts could be.
The raven haired killer watched quietly from his seat in the interrogation room, toying rather boredly with the handcuffs that were keeping his busy hands at bay. His team had been a bunch of idiots, and they’d completely ruined his assassination contract, not to mention had gotten him captured. He was in a whole other state, in the middle of the fucking ocean (thanks, Hawaii), and so here he was; stuck in an interrogation room waiting to be grilled about things he’d never open his mouth about.
His Pahkan was gonna be pissed...
Bloodhound sighed through his nose, looking up at the cieling as he kept his mouth shut tight and furrowed his eyebrows together with a subtle glare.