Prologue

   He watched from his angle, unmoving gaze fixed on the strippers dancing around the pole like their second bodies. The silver in his black hair caught the different color of lights flashing in the room. A glass of Barbera in one hand, and the other wrapped around a slim blonde. At the side of the hand holding the glass, another blonde sat there with legs crossed. Her head laid on his chest, her slender fingers running the length of his bare chest.

   Tearing his gaze from the strippers, he made a mental note to have them all fired. He lowered his gaze to the woman on his right, frowning when she smiled at him. They all knew the rules, never smile at him. He removed his hand from her body. 'Get out.' She flinched from the dark depth of his tone, and even if she wanted to protest, she knew better than doing that. Swallowing her complaint, she quietly stood up, gathered her property and scurried. Her life was better.

   'Boss,' a voice echoed in his ear, through the earpiece fixed to his earring, 'we found him.'

Finally.

   He pushed himself away from the other woman, handing her his glass before standing up. The woman opened her mouth to ask after his whereabouts, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Leaving the wide club, he entered a private hallway, one no one but his men is allowed to pass through. Following the long path, he ripped off his skin gloves and tossed it to the men trailing behind him. One of them ran up to him quickly, handing him another one. He slipped the new pair on before stopping at the elevator. One of the men pressed the elevator button before asked.

   Stepping out of the elevator after riding down, he looked around the dark hallway, making another mental note to deal with the one in charge of making sure his building has enough light. He arrived at his destination, striding into the room with hands clasped behind his back and a smile on his face. The men, already in the room, stood up straight, looking everywhere but his face. Well, all except one.

   'Where did you find him?' He asked, staring at his right-hand man with one eyebrow raised in question.

   'You won't believe it if I told you,' the huge man chuckled, shaking his head as if trying to believe the truth himself. The silver-black haired turned his gaze from his assistant, steering his stern gaze to his bruised victim. The cuffed man shivered in his seat, eyes instantly falling on his laps to escape the cold gaze he'd heard so much about. He was afraid, he was regretful, but he refused to go down as a traitor to his boss. He had everything to lose.

   'Try me,' the silver-black haired said, walking casually to the man that would be dead in the next one hour.

   'I found him with Mercy,' that caused him to pause for a second, before taking in a deep breath. He shouldn't be surprised, he'd faced far more betrayal than this. Shaking his head, he urged his trusted man to go on, while sitting on the table facing his victim. 'Bruce shot her, she's dead.'

   'Good,' he placed his legs on both sides of his victim, dropping his masked cheek on his palm and smiling devilishly at the trembling lost soul. 'Now, I'm sure you don't want to be here any more than I do, so we will both agree to put an end to this before it extends. The more time I spend here, the harder your death. Let's start with a simple question: who sent you to here to spy on me? And remember, I have zero tolerance and patience, so choose your words wisely.' The refrained man mulled over the words. According to what he knew, that was an offer for a swift death. He knew from the start that he was going to die, but what terrified him was the method in which he was told he would. The man his boss sent him to spy on was known for his cruel methods of eliminating his opposers and traitors. If he didn't have so much to lose, he would never have accepted the job.

   'Rico Sullivan.' The silver-black haired laughed, lifting his face from his palm. He folded his arms and tilted his head to the side, making the frightened man tremble even more. If his heart could jump out of his chest, it would have.

   'My, my, Carlos, Rico grew wings like Bruce predicted. Isn't this wonderful?' His right-hand man chuckled. 'Whatever should I do now?' He asked sarcastically, smiling sickly. 'And what information did you give him? Other than the shipment of goods that was stolen from me? Or the failed attempt to get my gold package last week. Please, do enlighten me, I'm curious.'

   'I… there's nothing else apart from the ones you already know, except for the one Mercy told him when she took his contact from me. I don't know what she told him, but it has something to do with a child staying in China.' The silver-black haired felt his heart skip a beat. He exchanged a quick worried glance with his assistant. The giant man quietly walked out, pulling out his phone to make a phone call, fast. The silver-black haired picked up the black 1918 trench knife from the table and joggled it a bit.

   'As promised, I won't waste your time. However, I want you to know before you die that your daughter is already dead.' The man's eyes widened, but before he could speak, the extra sharp blade was thrust into his throat. With a good amount of strength, the silver-black haired forcefully dragged the knife south, tearing the man's chest and stomach open.

   Smiling at the blood spluttered on him, he stood up and walked out of the room, leaving the lower men to take care of the dead body. He had a much important thing to worry about, and he knew a bloodbath was coming when he saw his right-hand man standing at the elevator, staring sadly at his phone. The huge man raised his gaze from the phone, confirming his fear and worry.

   'Ted, he has Yolanda.'