I smiled. Cold and thin.
"You want me to kneel? Keep dreaming."
Fay's brows shot up, and a sharp scoff escaped her lips.
"You really do have a death wish."
"I gave you a chance. You chose not to take it."
"When the police drag you out of here, don't blame anyone but yourself."
The words had barely left her mouth when the screech of brakes erupted from the restaurant entrance.
Dozens of black Rolls-Royces rolled in from the distance, forming a single gleaming line along the front of the building.
The license plate on the center car ended in "88888."
