PREGNANT CASHIER’S HUSBAND DESTROYED HER PHONE SO SHE COULDN’T CALL FOR HELP—HE HAD NO IDEA A MAFIA BOSS WAS WATCHING FROM AISLE THREE

of Derek’s battered pickup and pointed.

Derek left.

No final threat. No slammed door. No drunken shouting.

He drove away like a man who had just looked into a grave bearing his own name.

When Vincent came back inside, he didn’t approach too closely.

That mattered.

He remained on the opposite side of the counter, leaving space between them. His eyes briefly continue reading …