Severed Ties

In the underground dealings of Oakhaven.

"How did it go?" Tristan asked, cue stick in hand, eyes honed in on the billiard balls scattered across the green felt table. With a deft flick of the wrist, he sent a red ball rolling straight into a pocket.

Tito stood to the side, head bowed, his expression obscured by the dimly lit ambiance.

"Sorry, Mr. Sinclair. The job isn't done yet."

"Failed?" Trista