Malachi.
I storm into my office, tossing my black blazer furiously on a sofa. Nate follows behind me, picking the blazer. My eyes watch him absently, as he picks the clothing, folding it, before he sits.
"Am sorry for putting you all in this mess, Malachi. I should have been more considerate…"
"Can it, Nate. It's too late for sorry. You saw what happened in there. Owen demands our blood." I crisply retort, heading to pour a drink.
My hands tremble from rage, as I pour the drink into a glass. A knock comes on the door.
"Come in Miguel!" I bark.
Dad's home safe. We ensured that, before we came to my place. We've got to stick together, now that we know Owen's intentions. I have to also send word to our other cousins. The three of them should have been in the meeting, just like every other member. But they had to ensure the safe delivery of some of our weapon merchandise. They're better with this than Nate. Nate handles jewelries.
