Red Serpent’s voice was like a blade of arctic air cutting through the stagnant tension of the casino hall. He spoke a single, clipped word into his encrypted satellite phone: "Execute."
The room dipped into a momentary, confused silence.
Lord Buddha’s brow furrowed, a deep, instinctive knot of dread tightening in the pit of his stomach. For the first time in thirty years, his intuition was screaming at him that the ground was about to vanish beneath his feet. But his rational mind—the mind of a man who had built a criminal dynasty through cunning and brutality—refused to accept it.
Execute? Execute what?
Who in the entire Centralshire State would dare to move against him? Even Gideon Wainright, the wealthiest man in the state and President of the Chamber of Commerce, had to treat him
