(Damian's POV)
"Clean this mess up." I snapped at my men as I cleaned my bloodied hands, and immediately, they got into action.
"Yes, boss. But what about the body?" One asked.
I sent him an annoyed look. "He is not dead. And he's not your business. The cleaning lady will take care of him."
A look of disbelief crossed his face. "You didn't kill him, boss?"
"I don't murder people, and it will do you a whole lot of good to always remember that. I kill the guilty, but if a man is innocent, he goes back home to his family. Contrary to popular belief, I am not without a heart."
"That's why they call him the jury, it's a little title the underground world gave to the boss because of how he handles his business." A longer standing security whispered and hit his colleague's head. "Now stop asking the boss stupid questions and come clean up!"
I pretended not to have heard all that.
The jury.
I scoffed.
