Mr. Clay Martin was the world's most successful leader of all gang history. He had a sharp eye, a classy style, and a maleficent personality. He was not only a rich heir but a strict father as well. I had never seen him, in my three-year relationship with Levy, talking to his son other than business.
"Welcome, children," he greeted us after Levy paid for the cab and stepped closer to Mr. Clay, he shook our hands with a greedy smile, "oh, how I missed being in a massive business deal." He exclaimed like it was fun games to him. He was good with the gun, I would always find myself staring at the practice gun room he had in their mansion back in Oregon surrounded by forest trees and sand when I used to wait for Levy each morning.
"Hi to you too, dad." Levy rolled his eyes once he greeted hi
