Dante

The guest house was a crime scene. Three staff members. Throats slit. Two inside. One was dead on the porch, blood pooling everywhere. My people were spooked, but no one could tell me what happened.

But thank God Mercedes wasn’t here or she could have been added to the body count. I sent her to order cleaners. I couldn’t have any of this getting out to the public. I’d pay the families handsomely for their loss. And if any of them talked, they’d end up ...