C63 Dontrell's POV: No Mercy
I leaned back into the leather of the executive chair in my home office, the second-floor room sprawling in front of me, its polished wood floors reflecting the dim light from the chandelier above. The walls were adorned with dark, expensive art pieces, and shelves lined with books on strategy, business, and war. The heavy mahogany desk in front of me had papers scattered carelessly
