Eight years ago, our syndicate was massacred by enemies, and those family heirlooms disappeared. I killed hundreds of their men, but the man responsible never spoke until Marcus put him through a month of torture and finally got him to confess.
Marcus’s tone was controlled but angry. “They’re items from the dead. Do you have to care so much? I told you I would make it up to you later. For now, give those to Judy. You owe her, remember.”
Then he leaned back as if settling the matter.
Judy stepped closer with a fake sympathy. “Right, Miss Fairbank. Your parents are gone. Wouldn’t keeping those things only bring more pain? Maybe they died because of their own sins. I heard they were cut to pieces, sewn into dolls. When I first heard it, I was terrified.”
Her words drove a blade into me. Swiftly, I grabbed her, slammed her down on the table, and drew a dagger from my thigh, pressing it against her wrist.
“Too many words.” I snarled. “Do you want the items or your hand?”
As quickly as I, Marcus sprang up and kicked the knife away. But I pulled a gun and pressed it against Judy’s belly.