Spence stared at the cold, gleaming edge of the blade on the floor, his pupils dilated with a primal, bone-deep terror. His entire body was seized by a violent tremor, his breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches. He looked up at the circle of faces—his brothers, his fellow henchmen—and saw only a wall of averted eyes and grim, stony silence.
Titus "c*****e" Vane took a half-step forward, his voice a low, emotionless rasp that carried the weight of a death sentence. "Your family will be provided for. We will see to it that they are looked after for the rest of their lives."
The words weren't a comfort; they were a finality. It was the standard code of the local kingpin—a promise of blood-money in exchange for silence and a quick end. If Spence refused, his wife and children wouldn't just
