Scott glanced at the rearview mirror but quickly looked away. The car behind them kept flashing its headlights, trying to blind him. His face darkened, his jaw tightening.
"HOW?!" Marshal cried, sliding down in the backseat to hide in case they started shooting.
Even though the car was bulletproof, Marshal's reaction wasn't surprising.
For years, the Don of the Di Carpios had enjoyed a life of leisure. He mostly focused on business dealings, politics, and giving orders. He hadn't been in the field for years, and even when he ordered someone's execution, Marshal was never the one doing the legwork.
"Scott, what's going on?!" Marshal panicked from the backseat. "How did they know about the exit?!"
Scott didn't answer, keeping his focus on the road.
"Are you kidding me?! Or have you become stupid?! How could they—"
"Shut up!" Scott roared without looking back, silencing Marshal instantly. "Shut your damn mouth… if you want to live."
