nto the wet pavement. Constance stepped out of her Uber, t
izzo, the club manager, spotted her immediately. He jogge
d, his voice trembling over the heavy bass
ed hallway to the VIP section. Rizzo pushe
r. A heavy leather sofa was overturned. The air smelle
g across the floor. "Took you long enough," he spat, stumbling toward her with a bottle still dangling from his fingers. "I slapped that little punk twice. Give him two hundred grand and call it a day-consider it a favor. Money fixes everything, and lucky me,
s swept the room and locked onto the
ther. Unlike his thick-headed, aggressive older brother Daren, Gael
nose. His lip was split, and his tailore
like a physical blow. Bradyn hadn't just gotten into a bar fight. He ha
ly to look at Bradyn. He
her voice was a
tle brat was running his mouth. So what? Now pay up. I've got a tab
e between them in two strides. She raised her
nst his cheek echoed like
ng his face. His eyes went wi
hands on a Ferguson in their own territ
her hand and slapped him again, harder
arrassing the M
rd until his knees hit the edge of the overturned sofa. He collapsed onto the floor, groaning. Constance stood over him, her posture radiating absolute, te
t heaving. "Constance! Mom and Da
. Her icy silence was far m
y napkin, his jaw hanging open. No one moved. The "fragile" Mrs. Fergus
nken friends, tried to ste
o full of violent intent that Hicks physically recoile
n. He was crying now, tears mi
king Bradyn gasp for air. "Gael Ferguson. Doretta's youngest son. Do you ha
idn't know he was
never think. That's alw
walked over to where Gael was cowerin
k," Constanc
his head violently, pressing himself int
He beat you up. Don'
was terrified of Bradyn, but more than that, he was ter
athetic boy. The silence
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