2

I held out the photographs in front of my face, reading the information that was written on them. I could feel my heart leap to my throat, and my blood run cold as the innocent lives that had been murdered stared back at me from their pictures.

The first picture was of a black man with brown eyes and black, afro-textured hair, wearing a white vest. The picture was taken at the crime scene. There was a bullet mark in his chest, and his vest was soaked with blood. The blood had pooled around his body.

I looked down at the case notes to learn more about who this man was.

ALFONZE MICHAEL.

19 years old.

Shot outside of Hunter’s Lane.

Known to have a crack addiction.

Deceased.

The second picture was of a white woman with platinum blonde hair, porcelain colored skin and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a salmon pink maxi length dress, and she had also been killed. Her picture was also taken at the crime scene, and yet again, there was no evidence left behind…

LILY GRAHAM.

30 years old.

Shot outside of Woodwick Central.

Known to have a cannabis addiction.

Raped and murdered.

The third picture was of a Puerto Rican man, wearing black jeans paired with a black jacket. He had a tribal tattoo across his chest, and the crime scene photos showed horrific images of him lying down next to his sisters, his mother, and his father, all of them left to die in their own pool of blood. They’d left a gun in his hand to make it appear that he’d killed his whole family before killing himself, but that was just pure bullshit…

RAYMOND RUIZ.

32 years old.

Whole family beaten to death and murdered in their own home.

Known to be involved in a turf war.

Known street dealer.

Fuck. Those people might have got themselves involved in some dodgy shit…

But they didn’t deserve this.

They didn’t deserve their lives being put to an end like this.

It was crazy how many people lost their lives from being involved in drugs, and it broke my heart that there was nothing that I could do to stop all of this from happening. A woman was raped and murdered just because she owed the people money. Those horrific, disgusting bastards needed to pay for what they’d done.

“All of the people affected were young…” Phillip began, with a timid expression on his face, “…and they had their whole lives ahead of them. All of these murders were done in the same city, and drugs are connected to each of these murders.” He broke off his sentence, shaking his fists angrily. “The very city in which the Russian Mafia own their corrupt enterprise, Indigo Limited. The very city where they conduct their operations!”

 “Boss, I understand,” I mumbled.

“Shit, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you, Maya…” he said, exhausted. “But this shit makes my blood fucking boil! They’re so good at covering up their tracks. If we let them get away with these murders, that’s blood on our hands! Nobody else’s!”

“Well, they won’t be getting away with this any longer,” I murmured, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “I’m gonna make them pay. I’m gonna make them pay even if it’s the last thing I fucking do.”

Phillip folded his arms as he stared back at me, and then he nodded his head in approval.

“All right, I’ll get you a flight booked for Manhattan tomorrow. I’m gonna have an apartment ready for you when you get there, as well as a new identity, and everything in your past wiped clean so you can’t be traced.” He sighed heavily as he made his way to his desk. “Good luck with this, Maya. It’s gonna be one fucking tough job, and you’re gonna get close to breaking point so many times. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”

“I promise,” I confirmed.

“If there’s any problems, where it gets to a matter of life or death, you make sure you fucking contact me,” he said. “This is the Mafia. They don’t fucking play around. Be careful whenever you’re gathering evidence against them. Make sure you never get caught.”

I nodded.