Black Network
Count on it," Dominic said.
He strode past her into the cold mist. Down in the courtyard, the V8 engines roared, shaking the damp air.
Tea leaves swirled in the boiling water. For fifty years, the Breeze Pavilion was neutral ground. Rival bosses came here to drink tea and settle blood debts without drawing a weapon.
Then, the wood splinters flew. The oak doors crashed inward, slamming against the walls.
Shinjiro stepped over the threshold, flanked by four Vanguard gunners with submachine guns hidden under their tactical coats. One gunner swung his weapon, smashing the century-old plaque above the door. The carved wood split, crashing to the floorboards.
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