CHAPTER 100

Alexander

I was fucked. Fucked in three different languages.

So knee-deep in shit that I might as well have been a shit mausoleum humanoid for all I cared.

How could I have hurt my wife so? What had come over me?

I remembered the first time it had happened, the lapse. Our first night in the heat of the ring’s operations.

My father had introduced us to the roguish-looking men, their dark eyes and thin lips lifting slightly with appraisal before settling back into a blank canvas.

It had frightened Fredrick, more than it had frightened me when the killings started. Round-eyed men tortured so badly their skin was hanging on to the sinew of minced muscle by a thread.

“Where’s the shipment Quavo?” My father grinned at the muscle man shaking his head wildly, but we had all known it was just a formality. The man couldn't very well speak when his tongue had been seared off.

I hadn't even been certain he could hear us until the exposed balls of his red-rimmed eyes rested on me.

”Dear God!” Fred