“That’s it! That’s everything I’ve got! All my money. My jewellery. Even my wedding ring,” the old woman said, pleading in her voice.
Scar grinned at her. He didn’t know why she’d decided to take a shortcut down the dark alley. Maybe it was because she was old and couldn’t face the longer walk along well lit streets on this bitterly cold December night. Whatever the reason, it had led her straight to him. Now he had her exactly where he wanted her… frozen in place by terror.
Terror of him. Terror of the combat knife in his hand. So terrified she’d given him everything without him even having to utter a threat.
Scar wasn’t done with her. Not yet. His knife had a job to do first. He hadn’t been given the nickname Scar because of any marks on his own body. No one had ever come
