Mafia's Captive Desire
The moment they saw him, they straightened, their conversations dying instantly.
Barry ignored them. His attention was on the man crumpled on the floor, bruised and bloodied.
“Tsk, tsk,” Barry muttered, kneeling beside Carrick Depay. He studied him like one might an insect before crushing it underfoot. “You’re a slippery one, I’ll give you that. But you forgot one thing, no one escapes Barry Cooper.”
Carrick coughed, tasting blood. “Please… don’t do this.”
Barry chuckled, amused by the pathetic plea. “That’s funny.” He turned to his men. “Leave us.”
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