“Your own child?”
Both Morte and Electra turned around and were surprised to see Nikolai standing there. He was wearing his pants without his shirt and was carrying a knitted blanket in his hands.
“Oh great, sleeping beauty is awake,” Morte mumbled, and Nikolai glared at him as he approach Electra and drape the blanket around her shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be here, it's cold,” Nikolai told Electra and then he turned towards the unknown man in a black suit.
“Who are you and what are you doing in her room at this hour?” Nikolai asked him.
Morte then pointed at himself.
“Who me? Signore De Rossi, you should be careful how you talk to me. In one flick of my finger, I can make you breathe your last breath.” Morte hissed.
“I will ask you the question again, who are you.” Nikolai hiss
