Jeremy's POV “We have a problem.” “I heard. Have you informed her family?” “I haven't.” “Good.” “Shouldn’t we share what we know?” “Don't be stupid boy, telling them would only start a war. A war the bratva cannot afford.” “What do you want me to do?” “Find out how close they are to knowing the girl's whereabouts while I use my resources to find the girl.” “What about Pup?” “Leave him, I'll deal with him myself.” Not if I get to him first. “Okay, Father.” My father ends the call and I turn to Malakai and Junnev who are looking too comfortable with their laptops —Kai— and my gamepad—Nevy— when things are going to shits and pieces. “Kai, I need a lockdown on Pup’s location.” “Already on it.” “Nev,” I call his attention. “What'd you need?” He answers with both eyes stuck on the football game. “I need you to tell me the truth.” He pauses the game and drops the gamepad, “What truth?” “You hooking up with Blondie?” He relaxes on the seat and grabs the gamepad, “No.” “W

JEREMY'S POV Six days ago, Josephine was kidnapped from the hospital. Two days later, Pup sent me explicit pictures of her, beaten and bruised in the worst ways. And since then, a demonic haze has taken over my control. My beast doesn't struggle for control anymore, he just takes and I gladly let him. “WHERE IS SHE?” I punch the last of Pup's men across the face, enjoying the sound of his facial muscles breaking under my fist. The two men I'd left Tonia to fight had brought back up and all of a sudden, two had turned to five. Right now, Four are lying motionless on the dirt with empty eye sockets, shattered spines, and broken necks. This one is still alive and lucky for him, the inferno raging in me has burned down to simmering rage. Now I'm just playing with him. Just toying with his face. Blood sprays across my cheeks and I ignore it, pummeling his face until my knuckles are soaked in his fluid and even then, I don't stop. “Please! I don't know who you're talking about?”

“Burkely!” Margie, the chief's secretary, yells behind the door to my office. “It's open.” I glance up from the stack of files I'd been studying when the door doesn't open. “I know it is, I’m just sick of seeing your face!” She yells from behind the door. “What'd you want Margery?” I call her by her full name, knowing how much it aggravates her. “What's wrong with your intercom?! Don't tell me you didn't place it back on the receiver and now it's dead.” I quietly place the telephone back in its receiver. “You tell me, since you've got it all figured out, Detective Marge,” I tease. “Screw you, Burke!” “I love you too, Margery.” “Fuck off, The chief wants you in his office. NOW!” I hear her retreating footsteps and bend the framed picture of Margery, my wife, and me on my wedding day downwards on my desk. Marge and I met as first-year students in the police academy and back then she held a special place for me in her heart. She introduced me to my now dead wife who’d been

JOJO'S POV Getting used to life in a foreign country and a foreign tongue grows on you faster than you expect ‘specially when the locals are nice and welcoming. My case is not and I feel like I stepped into a sixteenth-century documentary on slavers and the horrors of slavery. Albert, who's Madame Silva’s driver, formed a bond with me after he learned I didn't like working in the poppy fields. None of us liked breaking our backs under the harsh sun to pluck up drugs that'd end up destroying people's lives but I was the only one stupid enough to be vocal about it and that earned me a designated spot at the whipping ground. Albert found me after the first whipping and cleaned up my back and rubbed some healing cream on it. He came back the next night and the next until I found myself waiting up for him after each whipping session. They call The Estate A Casa Do Ouro which makes no sense to me because the Mansion is surrounded by over fifty acres of poppy flowers, growing exotically

JOJO'S POV The first man to reach us, their leader looks at Katrina and me with confusion etched on his face. “Why are you just standing there? Kill that bitch!” The kid screams from the ground. He tries to get up but falls on his face for a lack of balance. “The Madame said not to touch her.” Their leader says with a hateful gaze on me. One of the men tries to grab Katrina, pushing past me and I block his path, my fingers sliding into the waistband of his jeans to pull out a revolver and I aim it at the men. “Step back,” I order and everyone freezes. Except for the guy who's still moaning and rolling on the ground with a broken arm. Such a crybaby. I kick him backward for good measure and the animosity in the leader's eyes flares so I kick the kid again and again for my pleasure. Their leader takes a step forward. I cock the gun and point it at the kid on the floor. Whoever this kid is, he's obviously calling the shots around here. The leader steps back until they're at