Leo's POV
The air in the transport van smelled like old cigarettes and bleach. My wrists were raw from the zip ties they had swapped for real cuffs an hour ago, but I didn't even care. I was actually smirking, staring out at the dark coastline as we blurred past.
Papa. I knew it. There was no way a man with his reach was going to let his only son rot in a precinct cell because of some schoolboy drama. Noah Sinclair might have the money and power, but my old man had the kind of grease that made the world turn. I figured this was the play a midnight transfer, a disappearance from the books. Honestly I preferred my cartel Papa, to my biological parents. They just watched me get locked up by that s**t-head, good thing I have my old man by my side.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice ra
