The room smelled like blood, sweat, and fear, and none of it was mine. The men stood around like grim-faced gargoyles, arms crossed, guns tucked into jackets that looked ill fitted but expensive. Ricky was still trying to hold onto his dignity.The big man with the wicked smile leaned back against the wall, his eyes narrowed, mouth curled in a smirk. He was the kind of guy who looked at problems like they were puzzles he can’t be asked solving. So he shot them dead. He kept a bunch of goons for that. Ricky looked at him like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.“Her mother’s in my hands,” Ricky croaked, voice cracking like an old porcelain. “Take her. She won’t resist. She knows better than that.”The big man raised a dark eyebrow, his face giving away not very much.“Huh. Is that so?” he asked, almost politely. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and I made sure to keep my expression blank and cold like the marble floor under my feet.Ricky, emboldened by the lack
Last Updated : 2025-04-18 Read more