Letting out a sigh, Blaze disappeared into the crowd, pulling his black hoodie over his hair. Storms and starlight, she had once called it, and even with an array of bottle colours and rainbow styles adorning many these days, his natural shades never failed to draw attention.
He rubbed a hand down his face. He couldn't believe this was happening; she wasn't meant to have been there. He had meant to be observing, making sure the hit-man did the job he had been paid for. Johnathon Jameson had been causing waves, and his new propositions, if rolled out, would make things run a little less smoothly for the Thorne family. His death was meant to be a warning. Lethal poison, showing that it didn't matter who or where you were, that you could still be silenced. But she just had to show up.
The b
