Chapter 1905

Carson had never seen anything like this before. He was so terrified he couldn't even get a word out, just stood there shaking, frozen to the spot. The guys running the place didn't care how scared he was. They just went straight for him, no questions asked.

Their weapons were basic-kitchen knives, cleavers, a few hunting blades. Nothing fancy, but all sharp enough to do damage.

One of the men, sporting a wild beard, took a big gulp of liquor, then spat it right onto the blade of his cleaver, like he was giving it some kind of blessing. He jerked his chin at the others and grinned. "You lot, get him over here. Let's get this done, get paid, and go home to our wives. No point wasting time on this brat."

They didn't even hesitate. A few of them grabbed Carson, yanking him off the floor like he was nothing but a slab of meat. They pinned his arm and slammed his hand down on the cold, wooden cutting board.

The chill of the board snapped Carson back to reality. He tried to jerk his hand away, eyes wide as the blade caught the light, reflecting right in his face. Pure panic took over. He dropped to his knees, begging, tears streaming down his face.

"No, please! Don't-don't cut my finger off! I'm sorry, I swear, I'll never come back here again. Please, I'll do anything. I'll give you money—a million dollars, okay? Just let me go, please!"

Whatever swagger he'd had before was long gone. Now he was just a sobbing mess, begging for his life, not caring about pride or dignity. Staying alive was all that mattered.

He couldn't believe stuff like this actually happened in the States. Wasn't anyone in charge here?

"A million?" the bearded guy scoffed. "Are you trying to be funny? You think your finger's only worth a million bucks? What do you think this is, a charity?"

What?

A million wasn't enough? Were these guys even serious? He could blow through that much at Golden Glow and not blink-these guys acted like it was pocket change.

Another man an snorted, “Come on, boss, why bother talking to him? He's just some Kidd family punk. Even if he was from the Woods of Stonnell families, he'd still have to leave a finger if he messed up here. The whole Kidd family could barely save one finger with everything they've got. A million bucks? Please."

Carson just sat there, numb. He slumped to the floor, totally spent, like a fish out of water. There was no way the Kidd family would throw everything into saving him. And anyway, he wasn't even the favorite anymore. Jane was the one running things now.

It was all Jane's fault. She'd put him in this mess.

The guards dragged him up again, slammed his hand back onto the board. The knife came down hard and fast. One finger was gone, just like that. The next was hanging by a strip of skin.

"AAAHHH!"

Carson's scream filled the whole room, sharp and gut-wrenching.

Blood sprayed everywhere, the metallic smell thick in the air. It was sickening, like something out of a nightmare.

The boss waved his hand in front of his face, frowning at the mess but not really angry. "You're supposed to be a pro. Watch your aim and your grip next time."

The man holding the knife shrugged, sheepish. "Sorry, boss. Bit rusty. Won't happen again."

"It better not," the boss grunted, turning to leave. As he reached the door, he called back, "Clean him up before you send him back. I don't want anyone thinking Golden Glow does sloppy work."

The door shut behind him, leaving Carson sobbing in a puddle of blood-broken, humiliated, and completely alone.