Heart Of The Mafia
I pushed myself off the table and walked toward him slowly.
My footsteps echoed in the empty warehouse.
“This shouldn’t take long,” I said calmly.
The man coughed suddenly, while blood spilled from his mouth as he bent forward, struggling to breathe.
“That is,” I continued, “if you cooperate.”
The man slowly lifted his head, his eyes barely open.
He looked terrified.
Good.
Fear made people honest.
“Who sent you?” I asked, my voice was calm, almost bored.
The man swallowed painfully.
“I’ve already told you,” he muttered weakly. “I’m just a petty thief. I saw a rich woman walking alone and thought she would be easy to rob.”
Bab Populer