Domenico
“Not yet, Tito.”
Tito nodded, and his head dipped in respect.
Domenico squatted in front of the slug. “You’re a disrespectful piece of shit. How you even made it this far, I don’t understand. Who are you that Jax would send you here?”
The slug looked away, to the other men, to the ceiling, anywhere but at the man leaning over him. Domenico gave a huff of annoyance, pulled his gun from his waistband, and pressed it against the slug’s chest.
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