The fading light from inside the car shone fearfully in the reflection of the pupils of four unknown men in black suits.
What the hell do they want from me?
The question was asked in Santino's mind for the tenth time, without emerging from his vocal cords.
He had not been the only one to silence the comments, but the merciless companions of him were also silent, in a way more threatening than expectant. The vehicle speed was moderate and due to the tinted windows, the view to the outside was completely nil. Even more so at this time of night.
Then he remained rigid in the back seat. His gaze, nervous and stunned, scrutinized as closely as possible the physique and features of those hitmen.
A young man perhaps a year or two his junior, with long blond hair tied in a high ponytail, leav
