JAMES

I paced back and forth, restless.

Brad sat comfortably on a chair, one foot in front of the other, a glass of liquor in one hand and an unbothered smirk on his face.

“James, you need to calm down.”

“I’m trying... why the hell are you not even worried? You’re practically on a kill list.”

“James, don’t worry about me. We’ve handled way worse. I can take care of myself.”

“We haven’t handled anything like the Triad before,” I said, my heart ...