"Enjoy your little victory in the Garment District, Rafael," a smooth, cultured voice whispered to the empty office room. "Your execution has already been financed."
The anonymous gambler stepped forward out of the dimly lit alcove near the casino exit. His long trench coat rustled against his heavy boots, and his reptilian eyes remained locked onto Rafael Ethel with murderous intent.
Rafael stood perfectly still near the brass elevator doors, his dark velvet jacket catching the warm glow of the surrounding crystal fixtures. His expression did not show a single trace of fear, remaining unbothered and dangerously calm.
"A mercenary who speaks in dramatic riddles is rarely worth the price of his contract," Rafael noted softly, his smooth baritone voice cutting through the ambient hum o
