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Two men sit bound and gagged in a warehouse adjoining Club Xtacy. The elder of the two sits unmoving, brow furrowed, a look of steely determination in his eyes. But tears trickle from the eyes of his much younger fellow prisoner, and he visibly trembles as a crowd of Irish thugs, all heavily armed, stare him down.
“Look at the wee lad, he’s about to piss himself,” says one.
Laughter erupts from the group. “Fooking rats. Hope The Boss ends them slow and painful,” growls another. Murmurs of agreement rise from the crowd, before suddenly the men fall silent, and only the sound of high heels on concrete can be heard.
The sea of bodies parts, creating a path for Cassie Kade to purposefully advance toward her prisoners. In one hand she holds a small transparent baggie containing a mixture of black and white powder. She’s followed by her cousin Lexi, clad in a red dress with a plunging neckline. She grins as she looks at the sea of men on either side of her cousin and herself. None of them dared make eye contact with her, Cassie had trained them well, and evidently their fear of her extended to her kin. But unlike Cassie, Lexi could sense the raw desire of human men, and this room was even heavier with it than the beach party she attended earlier in the day.
Ahead of her, Cassie wordlessly extends a hand toward one of her henchmen. He immediately gives her his gun.
Cassie turns toward the bound prisoners, two former members of her own organisation. She tosses the baggie toward them. “Skimming Rush, mixing it with coke and selling it as ‘Silver Fox’… in my city? Did you gobshites really think I wouldn’t find out?” She shakes her head. “Unbelievable. And you had so much of it too. Almost like you were planning a big sale. Tell me who your buyer would have been.”
Cassie tilts her head toward the elder of the two men, and one of her henchmen swiftly removes the man’s gag. He promptly spits on the floor. “I ain’t telling you shit!”
