Liam took one step forward, his voice low, hard, and laced with deadly intent.
"Drop her."
The words weren't shouted—but the weight behind them felt like thunder. A command, not a plea. His eyes were locked on the man holding Lana by the throat, her body still suspended a few inches above the ground.
But the man didn't move.
His grip stayed firm.
Lana's eyes were fluttering now, her mouth opened but no air was coming in. She was clawing at his arm, her legs twitching with fading strength. She didn't have much longer.
Liam's fists clenched so tight, his knuckles popped.
Then Boris lifted his hand lazily and gave a simple nod.
"Drop her."
The man obeyed.
Lana hit the floor hard, coughing violently as her lungs fought to drag in oxygen. She clutched her throat, eyes wide, pain painted all over her face. Her body shuddered as she gasped, the sound cutting through the thick silence of the ballroom like broken glass.
Liam didn't take his eyes off her.
He didn't even blink.
