The convoy was escorting him to the City Hall in Tepic.
There, he would face trial!
El Mencho's breathing was rapid, the egg whites slipping down his face, tasting bitter in his mouth.
His palms clenched tightly.
No!
He could not just sit there waiting to die.
He didn't want to die.
He still had a lot, a lot, a lot of money in his bank account!
Dead men don't need money, how tragic that would be, yet he still wanted to control his drug empire!
He enjoyed watching others wail, but that didn't mean he wanted to be tortured himself.
With Victor's ruthless nature, he would surely kill him!
He couldn't die!
He still had so many dreams, he was still young!
As the convoy turned a corner and approached City Hall, he saw hordes of reporters broadcasting on the roadside.
He knew, his chance was here.
With a sudden move, he stood up, yanking on the chains, instantly drawing everyone's attention.
