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Phillipe

When Philippe strode into the mansion a few minutes later, he was still thinking of the Israeli woman who had arrived there to save them. An unfamiliar feeling of awe had settled in his gut.

James Schwarz was an expert marksman but even he would have had a hard time getting such an exact shot at the man who had been driving an explosives-laden vehicle, shooting him at the very moment that he had been swerving...

Damn, but the woman was an ace, he thought, as he knocked and entered the Boss’s study.

Clouds of cigar smoke engulfed the Russian mobster, Kirill Gosev, who turned to watch them enter. Beston trooped in and the guards discreetly shut the door.

Lucien St Claire leaned back in his chair, his narrow-eyed gaze on them as he growled,

“Well?’

Beston cleared his throat.

‘The vehicle …it was heading towards the house…’

Lucien cleared his throat impatiently.

“Hila Zaid saved us.” Said Philippe and for a split second, his eyes went to Piers who was standing by his father’s side, Claude
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