NELSON ESTATE
Thomas Nelson glanced at his brother Nathan and nephew Marcus. “So,” Thomas began, breaking the silence, “I hear Miguel McGrath is back from wherever he’s been holed up for treatment.” His tone dripped with disdain.
Marcus, seated at the far end of the table, didn’t look up. He methodically cut his steak, his face showing no emotion at all. It was almost as if he weren’t at the table.
“I didn’t think he’d make it,” Thomas continued, smirking as he picked up his wine glass. “Thought the explosion did us all a favor.”
Nathan, seated to Thomas’s right, chuckled as he swirled his whiskey. “Honestly, I was hoping the same. But Miguel’s like a cockroach—always manages to crawl out of the rubble. How I would have loved to see him gone for good," he said.
“‘Cockroach’ is the pe
