"Hey, Blackie!" a sharp voice cut through the man's words.
As the sound fell, a burly, overweight man stepped inside. He glanced at Nevaeh and said, "Miss, you've offended the wrong people. Don't blame us."
Nevaeh had overheard earlier that Blackie mentioned Cassius. It seemed he had crossed someone, and now she was dragged into it.
Feigning fear, she begged, "I haven't offended anyone, please… can you let me go?"
"Let you go?" The fat man sneered. "The other side wants your life. If you want to blame someone, blame your bad luck for getting mixed up with the wrong people."
With that, he yanked a knife from his waistband and lunged straight at her.
Her hands were tied, and when she saw the glinting blade, panic gripped her. Sweat formed on her forehead.
Desperate, she struggled against the ropes, the rough fibers cutting into her skin until blood seeped out. But she couldn't care about the pain.
She couldn't die here.
