Enslaved By The Mafians
And then, a voice from behind called out from behind her:
“Good evening, officers..”
Instinctively, Paz pulled her gun and swung dramatically, holding the gun in front of her, only to see a tall, black, and lanky man in a t-shirt and jeans standing coolly, his hair overly grown and his hands in his pockets and a look of zero expression on his face.
“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” Paz growled.
Selena, at this point, had already pulled her gun.
“My name is Omari Sutton... I'm a journalist from Los Angeles, USA, precisely, and I'm here to alert you of a storm that's brewing in your city.”
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