Allison's POV
Peter Donovan’s curses rang out as he stumbled to his feet, clutching his jaw. “You bitch! I’m going to deal with you myself.”
Before he could make another move, I was on him. I swept his legs out from under him with a swift kick, sending him crashing to the floor. I had my gun drawn and pressed firmly under his chin before he could react.
His men reacted immediately, pointing their guns at me, their fingers twitching on the triggers. “Don’t even think about it,” I snarled, pushing the barrel harder against Peter’s throat. “I’ll kill him first before any of you have a chance to fire.”
The tension in the air was thick. Peter’s men hesitated, confusion and fear building in their eyes. Peter himself was livid, his face red with anger and humiliation. “You bitch, let me go!” he spat.
I didn’t budge. “Not a chance. I’m smarter than you think.”
Peter struggled against my grip, but the cold steel of the gun pressed harder, and I saw the fear flicker in his eyes. “Please, don’t shoot,” he pleaded, the bravado draining from his voice. “Just let me go.”
His men were still pointing their guns at me, their confusion turning into outright fear. I kept my gaze steady, my voice cold and firm. “Call Williams Luther,” I instructed them, “and tell him to get down here. Now.”