Chapter 29

Tariq stood over the wreckage of the VIP room, his gaze shifting from the trembling Jaber Sloane to the man known as Barakat Allah. The air was thick with the scent of spilled alcohol and the metallic tang of blood. "Ibrahim Calloway," Tariq said, his voice cutting through the silence with an indifferent edge. "Do you have any opinion on this?" Ibrahim Calloway did not look at his nephew. He kept his eyes fixed on Tariq, his posture rigid with a mixture of professional respect and deep-seated...