Siwan: We are becoming more and more of a target by the day. That son of a bitch Christopher is following our every move. I don’t know how he does it, but he knows every breath we take.

When your father angrily lists these sentences in one breath, you also tense up and lean back even more in your leather chair. You look around the faces of the meeting participants, noticing that they are all quite tense.

Siwan: I will not be defeated by a brat like him. Do you hear me? No one has been able to bring me down for years, I will not let him do it either!

Just as your father finishes his sentence, the doors of the meeting room open with a loud bang. One of your men flies in with a scream of pain and lands right in front of the table.

All the participants get up from their seats with fear and anxiety and walk away from the door. Only your father and you stand up.

At this moment, Chris, with a happy whistle and a gun in his hand, his suit and part of his body covered in someone else's blood, enters with a maniac smile.