Page 88 of Corrupted Queen

I remove the knife, wiping the blood on his shoulder. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

I believe him. Miguel was always too cocky, like a man who wanted everyone to believe that he knew more than he did. Still, the information about Kevin Lynch and the Irish reforming with the help of the Cartel is helpful enough.

I hand the knife to Dom, and he slides a gun into my palm instead.

Miguel begs. He pleads. He bargains. He offers to spy on the Cartel for me, to become an inside man. He offers me money, gold, diamonds.

I lift the muzzle of the gun to his forehead and pull the trigger while he is sputtering pathetically about his wife. Anyone would think me a heartless monster. And that is exactly what I am, what I need to be for the war that is to come.

This is how I will show my men and my enemies that I am not weak—by hammering my authority, by ruthlessly disposing of my enemies, and by taking no fucking prisoners.

If I want to survive what happens next, I need to become the man my father never could be, a combination of my cunning and his ugly brutality.

I am going to take this city, every fucking inch of it, and I will paint the streets red with the blood of anyone who tries to stop me.

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