Fear knotted in Tyrone's throat as his eyes darted to the doorway of the private room.
Through it stepped a towering figure wrapped in a black trench coat, a man who looked to be in his forties.
His face carried sharp lines and a rugged edge,the slit in his left eyebrow and the thick beard giving him a dangerous sort of allure.
The sight of him sent Tyrone's legs buckling. He collapsed to the floor, his expression drainedof any hope.
This was Luis Welch, a name whispered across Oticester's underworld with growing dread.
People often remarked on two things about him -the scar-like slit in his brow and the beard that shaped his face.
Three years had been all it took for Luis to turn his small-time crew into one of Oticester's three major factions. Now the criminal world in Oticester was held in a tense three-way standoff among Curtis Howe,Leroy Graham, and Luis.
Had it not been for Curtis and Leroy forming an alliance, Luis might have taken full control of Oticester by now.
Luis's name was spoken in whispers. His reputation for cruelty and ruthless efficiency made rivals shiver.
Oddly enough,despite operating outside the law,Luis's organization stayed clear of typical rackets and vices, yet its influence ballooned.
People who dared to cross Luis soon discovered there was no forgiveness-only a swift,merciless end.
Seeing Luis intervene for these women meant they were probably more than acquaintances.They might even be his lovers or fav/orites.
Challenging anyone close to Luis bordered on suicide. Tyrone realized he was finished.
A crushing atmosphere settled over the room as Luis strode forward, menace radiating off him like heat from blacktop in July.
Out of nowhere, the man everyone feared
<###Chapter 41 Boss
dropped to his knees in front of Emilia. "Boss!" Luis called out, voice strong and clear.
The rest of his men immediately followed suit,their voices rising in unison. "Boss!"
Tyrone could only stare, his mind reeling as he stared at the woman on the sofa.
She looked almost fragile, with a cool, careless air as she kept sipping juice, unconcerned.
How in the world could this be real? No one would have guessed that this delicate-looking woman actually sat at the head of Luis's entire operation.
Tyrone felt as if reality had slipped from his grasp, the shock hitting him like a punch to the chest.
A moment ago, he had thought of laying hands on both women. Now he realized one of them commanded a man feared across the city's underworld.
Luis's reputation was already soaked in blood. If even he bowed to this woman, how terrifying must her power be? What sort of monster had he stumbled upon tonight?
His gaze locked helplessly on Emilia, despair spreading through him until his body betrayed him with a dark stain on his trousers. He stood frozen,drowning in terror.
Stumbling to the floor, Tyrone clasped his hands together, pleading, "Please, I didn't realize who you were! I made a mistake, have mercy. I promise it won't happen again."
"Oh, so you're done making threats now?"Emilia's mouth curled in a sly, mocking grin.
"I swear, I'm done! Let me go and I'll do whatever you say. I'll serve you, just don't hurt me!" Panic stripped him of all dignity. Sweat poured from him as he crawled into the role of a pathetic supplicant.
"You certainly grovel well." Emilia rose abruptly,extending a graceful hand toward Luis with polished elegance.
Understanding her intent, Luis immediately placed a silenced gun in her slightly open palm."It's a shame you never grew out of being a thug.People like you are only good at causing pain."
Her voice had barely faded before the gunshots cracked.
Four gunshots rang out. Each bullet found a limb, Emilia's hand steady and unhurried as though this were routine.
"Ahhh!" Tyrone's wails split the air, his body shuddering while sweat streamed down his face.
He realized, too late, that the woman before him was far deadlier than Luis himself.