Pierce Lockland's reputation as a playboy and all around ladies man is hard earned. With a massive muscular build and a panty-dropping smile, Pierce looks more like a male model than a former Marine sniper, but that doesn't make him any less lethal...
Estrada sat at his large mahogany desk with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if the pressure could suppress the rage that coursed through his veins. His drug empire was crumbling and the DEA was slowly closing in on him.
Having a DEA informant was a priceless asset, an asset that he had been stripped of that very morning. Williamson had been feeding him information for years, keeping his operation out of the DEA's crosshairs, but Williamson had been made and taken into custody.
Dress shoes clacked along his marble hallway bringing his attention to the large doors before they swung open.
"You better have a damn good reason for barging in here like you own the fucking place," Estrada growled, glaring through his furrowed brows with a death stare that stopped the man in his tracks.
"Williamson sent this for you. It was the last piece of intel he could get out before the DEA raided his home."
Estrada opened the sealed envelope with a knife and smirked maliciously at its contents.
The envelope contained several documents, but Estrada's focus was on one in particular. It was a photocopy of a drivers license, but not just any drivers license. He was staring into the eyes of the man who had killed his nephew, Mario, and finally had the killers true identity.
Well at least Williamson could give me one final gift before his capture.
"Pierce Lockland..." Estrada read aloud.
Memories flooded Estrada as he stared at the killers photograph and he recalled the last time he had seen those haunting blue eyes. Mario was sent to ambush a DEA raid on one of Estrada's compounds, but this man, this killer, somehow found Mario's location. Estrada watched in horror through the live body camera footage as the man beat Mario mercilessly, ultimately ending his life with a sickening crack of the neck.
Estrada had been desperate for the killers identity and now he finally had it. Maybe he couldn't save his empire, but he could avenge his nephew.
The intensity of his bloodlust only increased the longer he glared at Pierce's photo.
I found you, asshole. And I am going to make you pay for what you've done.
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