Pampered By The Rival Syndicate Don

head in my direction as he tossed hi

neless thing. "I've been managing Syndicate affairs

hroom, the heavy door clicking shu

. I sat on the edge of the mattress and stared at the closed door

one vibrated against m

spasmed, and it took three attempts before I could

was from an unt

ht confirmed. De

ed. I stared at the vaulted ceiling until my eyes burned, letting silent, bitter

n rose, I would be leaving h

the acrid aroma of toasted brea

house was unnervingly quiet. I moved t

in a tailored black suit, his leather gun holster strapped securely over his bro

anced up whe

ture to a ceramic plate sitting

the plate, my g

recision that only the rubbery, translucent white remained. Beside it sat

ellow, and as I reached for it, my fingernail accidentally tore the fragile, papery film of its

breathed, the wo

olks and the soft center of the bread. She has a delicate stomach

el refrigerator, he pulled out

milk," I said, the words fall

ing casualty. "She has been feeling weak. Make sur

sly under his arm and grabbe

city," he added, finally turnin

out a single touch. He

se slammed shut, the deadbolt engaging with a loud

hen. The oppressive silence of this cold, ma

en, a knife-like twisting where life had been. I gripped the

eyes shut against the agony, but the tears came anyway-hot, fast, an

the hollowed-out egg white. I looked

as to him now. The scraps

e garbage disposal. The machine roared to life with a vicious growl. I ruthl

tting the icy temperature numb my skin

p and pulled my two large, reinforced suitca

only what was essential: my tactical gear, my weapons, and my encrypted drives. Every diamond, e

th a sharp, decisive motion an

was nothing compared to the ice in my veins. Pulling out my burner