"There will be no discussion of numbers."
Samuel's words fell like a thunderclap in the room.
For the first time that night, Umal's face went slack, the smug curl of his lips vanishing in an instant. The way his expression shifted from self-assured to rattled was nearly comical.
"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice dropping in dangerous disbelief.
Samuel simply nodded toward Xander's horrifying remains on the floor. His skull lay cracked open, the blood pooled thickly beneath his corpse.
"Someone just died because of your product."
Umal scoffed. "That's the point," he countered, regaining his composure. "Besides, you were the one who provided the victim."
Samuel, still staring at Xander's body, clenched his jaw. The sickening and haunting sound of his death still echoed in his ears, playing in a repeat in his head. He had seen killings before—he had even ordered them —but this? This was