Kishi bared her teeth, leaning close enough to Gordo that their noses almost touched.

The fat mobster wasn’t visibly impressed and pointedly stuffed a chunk of lobster into his mouth. “I don’t know what kind of men you are used to doing business with chica,” he said around a mouthful of food, “but in my city, I make the rules.”

Already familiar with men like Gordo, men who broke agreements simply because they could, Kishi filed this deal as another failure and started planning her escape. She let a frustrated whine creep into her voice. “We had a deal.”

“Perhaps we will again. For now, begone. The sight of your raggedy ass sickens me.”

Dressed in ripped jeans, a Fish Story tee and a leather vest, Kishi knew that her thin frame didn’t look all that dangerous. That was the problem. She visibly swallowed making the tattoo of a noose around her neck writhe like a snake.

“Fine.” Drawing her knife, she stabbed him three times, her hands a blur. Then she bowed low to the dying man. “Goodbye, dealbreaker.”