"It's your fault! If you hadn't have run away, so many people wouldn't be dead. You were my salvation! How could you make me do this?" He sobbed and spittle flew from his mouth in his fury. Then he pointed the gun at his sister, "I should kill you too, putting your nose where it doesn't belong."

He dragged his wife closer, his arm around her neck. He was satisfied at the gagging noise she made. Good, suffer, he thought evily. He turned with Sonia toward the Madam and leveled the gun on her. "You let her leave, didn't you? It's as much your fault as it is hers!"

And suddenly, he was staring at the barrel of a pistol himself.

His own sister was pointing it at him. And then another as the man he recognized from around the brothel came barreling out with his own gun pointed at him. It was Marcus.