Chapter 46 Framed Killer
- The warehouse smelled like blood as Santino stood over the body, his Beretta still warm in his hand. The man's eyes stared at nothing, a perfect hole between them.
- "Clean this up," he told Silas, his newest recruit. "Make it look like gang violence."
- But something felt wrong. The raid had been too easy. Too perfect. Like someone had handed him the address on a silver platter.