Two men dressed in cheap suits stepped out of a faded gray ninety-eight BMW M3 sedan. The first man looked to be in his fifties and had a portly figure that stretched the material of his white dress shirt until it looked like the buttons were holding on for dear life. He closed the passenger door and adjusted his belt below his belly before smoothing down his black tie.
“I don’t like this?” Lorenzo growled next to Trick under his breath as they stood at the front door, waiting for the men to approach.
“It would look more suspicious if we didn’t let them in,” Trick responded in a low voice. His eyes wandered to the second man. He was younger than his partner. Maybe in his mid-thirties. The man also had a better body, like he dedicated hours to toning it just right. Aviator’s dark shades s
