Jason was sick of this shit.

He had enough to run with the Iceberg Lounge and the criminal empire that came with it. He didn't need some punk killing his clientele - no matter how terrible they were - and to have the nerve to do it in the back alley behind his club? No fucking way.

"You're done."

His voice seeped with anger, a pistol in both hands. A politician stood underneath your feet, your public execution of him was interrupted by Jason.

"Did no one teach manners?"