The high-altitude glass conservatory attached to the executive penthouse was no longer simply a quiet, atmospheric corner of their domestic sanctuary. Over the course of their first few weeks of absolute retirement, the space had undergone a massive, breathtaking transformation.
Boss Solis had completely divested himself of his underworld wrath. He had permanently locked away his custom-engineered mechanical handguns, and he no longer needed to patrol the subterranean tactical garages. However, the King of the Underworld still possessed the towering, hyper-muscled physique of an apex predator. His massive, heavily scarred frame ran on an eternal reactor of primordial energy, an instinctual drive to constantly provide, protect, and build for his family.
Without hostile cartels to physically dismantle, Solis had aggressively channeled his unyielding physical power into cultivating life.
