The Black Vine member sat slouched in his chair, bound and bloodied from the fight that had led to his capture, but otherwise intact. His face was thinner than Reginald's, sharper, the kind that gave off the impression of sly intelligence. But now, he looked more like a rat caught in a trap.
Jax leaned against the wall, spinning a knife idly between his fingers. "Name?"
"D-Donis," the man stammered. "I'm just a handler. Low-level logistics. I just move stuff, I swear." His current humble demeanour was very different from the prideful and superior manner with which he'd always spoken to Reginald.
"Stuff," Miya said dryly, arms crossed again. "You mean the drugs you're adding to this knockoff beer, and even trying to add to another company's beer?"
