Roman’s POV.
I sit glaring at this fat, greasy piece of Mexican s**t. Casey is quietly sobbing beside me as this thing called Marcel paces in front of us talking in rapid Spanish into his phone.
I look at Casey, and she looks at me. I shake my head at her and she nods her head. I turn back to look at this scumbag, who looks nothing like Hector.
Hector dresses nicely, has an air of confidence and deadly grace around him. But this thing, he has a potbelly, a dirty t-shirt which I think was once white. Pants that don’t fit and a god awful stench coming from him.
He is definitely a bottom feeder. Taking orders from Maria and whatever lackeys she has working for her.
“What do you mean, they have been caught? For f**k’s sake, do I have to do everything? What? No, they are alive, zip-tied
