T W E N T Y - T W O

Beast tapped his foot against the cold granite floor, inhaling the contents of his cigarette with a deep snarl on his face. His left hand that was rested on his knee was fisted, knuckles barely having any color to them as he anxiously anticipated the men’s arrival.

The two trotted into the lounge with sneers on their faces just a couple of minutes later. Wordlessly, the tiny man stood, accepting the expensive phone one of them was holding out. Exchanging a few glances with his most loyal workers, he concentrated back on the screen.

A yellow folder stood there with the name EMILIE DAVIS (JONES).

Snorting at the name, he double-tapped on it, shocked by the number of pictures and Word documents it contained.

An hour later, his lips were curled upward in an unkind way. Maybe this would get the younger Jones killed if he came alone. Because, after all, nobody would ever support his relationship with that girl.

They had just hit a jackpot.

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