My father-in-law and his eight sons b/ea/t my pregnant wife until she lost our baby… then laughed outside her ICU door, mocking me as a “worthless, broke soldier.” They had no idea I wasn’t just any soldier-I was the commander of a black-ops hit squad. As my phone buzzed with a message reading “Target confirmed,” I looked at them and whispered…

twitch. But Lawrence didn’t produce a weapon. His violently shaking hand emerged clutching a solid platinum, limitless credit card.

“Fifty million, Jackson,” Lawrence pleaded, his voice cracking, the polished aristocratic drawl completely erased, replaced by the pathetic squeal of a cornered rodent. “Fifty million dollars. Liquidated right now. Untraceable continue reading …