Chapter 38

Damon puffed on his cigar, observing Jack close the final body bag in the dimly lit room. The red lights added an eerie atmosphere, giving pause to anyone approaching the door.

Even then, they could still hear the blast of music from the main pub bouncing from wall to wall.

Dancing, sweaty bodies gliding against each other, making it hard to pass without coming in contact with the mouth of a drunk straight to your nose. If you weren't Don.

Glancing at the ceiling, he exhaled the smoke. His stay here had extended beyond the norm, dealing with matters of betrayal within the Mafia. The revelation of numerous impostors posing as loyalists surprised him. His gaze shifted to the gun in his hand and the bodies strewn across the floor, knowing that such actions carried consequences.

Jack, cleaning his bloody hands on his suit pants, walked towards him, leaving the rest of their men to do the work. Damon offered him a cigar, and he picked one out, sniffing against the brown