As tension etched Jordan’s features.

Jagoan, who had maintained a quiet vigil, instantly discerned the growing rumble of a motorcycle engine drawing nearer. It was heading their way.

In that charged moment, Hogan grasped the gravity of Jordan’s potential entanglement.

His voice turned stern as he demanded, “Jordan, lay it bare. Who have you crossed?”

Conceding that the truth could no longer be masked, Jordan, resigned, began, “Uncle Hogan, these folks here belong to a fresh gang making waves in New York…”

Hogan interjected, “Debt collectors, are they?”

for protection money, three grand a month. If you don’t pay up, they rough you up and

Hogan inquired, “Hasn’t Chinatown always been run by Chinese syndicates? The fee’s been a mere three hundred

gangs ceded it to them last week after a fierce showdown and heavy losses. Big Vigo has

caught Hogan off

story with this new gang? It’s only been a month since

voice bristled with frustration. “Who’s denying that! We toil from dawn till dusk in these stores, paying rent and working under the table since we lack legal status to foot the bills. You’re overseeing it all and after all’s said and done, you’re only scraping together a few grand a month. They

behind

by the name ‘Burning-Angel’. Mostly African-Americans with a sprinkling of Latinos from Brooklyn and downtown. Word is, they’re backed by Italians. The Italians

those wounds

‘protection’ money. I couldn’t cough up the sum, so they beat me down. They’ve given me until tonight. If

you contacted the police?” Hogan’s tone

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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