Chapter 49

• The dimly lit study reeked of stale cigar smoke and expensive scotch. Sitting behind a thick mahogany desk, the imposing figure known only as the Boss scowled at the report in front of him.
• His coal black eyes burned with rage at the details outlining the ruthless takeover happening in the Westbrook City neighborhoods under his control. Turf borders were being redrawn in blood by some new player calling himself Master Dragon.
• Any of the Boss's crews who refused to bend the knee found themselves brutally dismembered and strung up as a grotesque message to the others. Those wise enough to fall in line were spared, but forced to pay crippling "dragon taxes" that bled their operations dry.