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... day, Rocco." The man sitting behind the desk repeated languidly, letting out a deep sigh. "You crossed a person you shouldn't and as much as I hate to let such a bright person like you go, I can't let everyone in the firm have a hard time."

"They left me with no choice," the man continued with a grim expression. "I'm sorry for making a choice."

Rocco stared at the man he used to look up to because of his reputation for fighting for the weak. Although the man, who was also Rocco's ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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