"Damn it!" Charles Reed's roar shook the broken glass littering the floor, his voice thick with fury as he turned on the group of lackeys huddled like frightened children behind him.
"Why aren't you stopping them? Why are you just standing there like a bunch of useless bunch?"
Across his shop, Nathan's men were wreaking havoc toppling shelves.
Charles's black-market shop, painstakingly built over years, was being reduced to rubble before his very eyes. And yet his own gang… stood rooted in place, staring like dazed cattle.
"Boss, we can't fight them," One-Eye Jack blurted, his single eye darting back and forth.
"There are too many men. Even if we tried, we will be trampled before we could land a punch on them."
"They're threatening to break our legs!" another stammered, his voice thin and cracking. "Better to run while we can. If we're alive, we can rebuild the shop Boss. Dead men don't get second chances."
