Approximately one hundred and sixty kilometres drive from Salvine City, was a revamped modern motel called the Good Fellas. It was an ubiquitous structure designed for weary travelers to rest after a long day on the road.
The Good Fellas also happened to be a secret and coded meeting place for all sorts of criminal-minded people.
Deals were struck under the cover of legal hotel practices and in the event of a murder or assassination, the bodies of the victims were carefully disposed of leaving no trail behind.
After lodging for a whole night at the Good Fellas motel chasing his family's ghost to no avail, Jerry Morgan left the hotel premises, looking a bit depressed. He drove for another fifty miles, heading towards Salvine city when a call entered his phone. He picked up the phone and his gaze darkened when it fell on the caller's name.
Pulling over by the roadside, he received the call and spoke in the softest and sexiest voice.
