Book 3: Knife's Edge

Dante

I slam my fist down on the counter, making the cat statue with its paw in the air topple over. “That’s not fucking good enough.”

Wing, the boss of the biggest triad in Chinatown, looks at me without a flicker of emotion in his eyes. “You storm into my shop. You set your goon outside to scare away reputable customers. And then you tell me I haven’t met your expectations?”

I suck in a breath and grab for the fraying remains of my hold on my temper. A week and a half. She’s been gone for a week and a half, and I’m not any goddamn closer than I was the night she disappeared.

If I didn’t know about the three armed bruisers behind the curtain in this stupid fucking tea shop Wing and I both know handles a paltry portion of their money laundering, I’d already have my gun out. As is, I glance at Tony through the plate-glass store windows and remind myself he can’t get in here fast enough.

“Is there anything else?” I ask, not bothering to k