ed smoothly, but Lil

It was a thick, metallic stench of fresh blood, mixed wi

he underground level was designed l

e. Two men, shirtless and covered in sweat and blood, were l

h men in tailored suits. They were screaming, waving slip

ice station and picked up a silver tray holding a

in the shadows. Her eyes darted upward, scanning t

ac

over the crowd's roar. A spray of blood hit

pt walking. A guard standing nearby gave he

booth on the second floo

jacket. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposin

swirling amber l

r. He wore a civilian suit, but his posture was rigid,

r research. General Marcus Vance. A t

g family wasn't just bribing local cops. They h

hear what th

taircase that led up to the VIP balcony. She pretended t

the crowd, she could

ing. Leo slid a small, dark object across the table-a USB drive? General Vance stared at the drive. His face tu

d. It was a cold, dead smile. He lea

ofa. He looked like a man who had just bee

ugh to break a man of his stature. This wasn't a deal. It loo

it in a mock toast to the defeate

is dark eyes swept lazily

her back against a thick concrete pillar

r of her dress, feeling for the tiny tracker b

. The fight in the cage was over. The

her tray and prepared to walk up t

h hand clamped down har

d at her to drop the tray, reach for her shoe, and

her muscles

y turned

anding right behind her. His rat-like