“You read the file?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “I only saw the end result.”

My hand went to my nose, pinching the bridge in annoyance. “We need names and information first. I need something to bring back to The Dictator or it’s my ass on the line.”

His eyes squint as he strokes his chin through his mask, kind of like how someone would stroke a beard... but I’m not sure if he even has one, I’ve never seen the dudes face

“How many names, and how much information before I send him to hell?”

“Just... whatever you can get. He’s been working with some rivals for a while and I need to know who, what, when, and where. Can you manage that?”

Shrugging again, the giddy motherfucker skipped over to the door like a school kid across the playground. And to think I liked violence? Being named ‘Reaper’ seemed to be for...reasons. All my thoughts ceased when he busted through the front door without so much as a warning.

If he wasn’t so good at his job...

I shook my head and followed him in.

What I found was Reaper had booted this man out of his chair onto the floor and stood over him, arms crossed. His bulky frame in skin-tight black clothing was intimidating this small man on the floor into almost tears.

“Woah! Augustus said that this was a business meeting!” He was basically screaming in fear of Reaper. Honestly? I would too. The fucker was scary.

Trying not to laugh at the scene of a grown man cowering in fear, I stood with my arms crossed in a similar stance. “This is a business meeting, but it’s also an intervention.”

He tried backing away, holding his hand out in a protective manner. “Wh-what is this about?”

I rolled my eyes. “Look, I’m going to make this easy for you. Give me the names, dates, times, or anything you have floating around in your noggin. Otherwise, Reaper here will pull them out of you.”

His eyes bulged out of his head as he looked back to the large, imposing figure standing over him. “I don’t know what you want!”

Reaper set his boot slowly to his head. “John, I will count to three because I’m a nice man sometimes.”

His boot pushed slowly.

“One...” His head was guided toward the floor.

“Two...” The ground and his head made connection with one another. Next, he’d apply pressure.

“And–”

“Wait! Wait! Jason! J-Jason Haines! He approached me about three years ago with a proposition.”

I scoffed. “You fucking scum. You’ve been a rat for three years?”

“He said your grandfather was going down with some other woman and told me I could be useful and make it out unscathed! I don’t know much more than that, I swear!”