"We can't find her, Se?or."
Sotza looked up from his temporary desk and studied the man standing before him, assessing him. He didn't frown, didn't get angry, didn't react. That was the thing about the Venezuelan boss, what terrorized the people that knew him, or knew of him. He rarely gave warning before he struck. Simply waited until his victim wasn't watching then killed them, no fuss, no mess. The lucky ones would die before they even knew what happened. The unlucky ones got to find out why he was nicknamed the Gentleman Butcher.
Sotza sat back in his chair, his posture straight. "I must say, Mr. Cruz, I am… disappointed."
It'd been five days since he spoke with Vee, five days since he took out her Mexican connection. He had to admit, he'd been hoping for a vicious comeback from his
