Rocco laughed along, convinced Andrew had lost his mind. "Everyone who falls into East Side's hands ends up scared witless. It's understandable!"

The lackeys guarding the warehouse entrance relaxed, exchanging amused looks. They began calling out suggestions for torture, each more horrific than the last.

"Mr. Madden, how do you want to handle him? Chop off a few fingers first, or maybe castrate him right away?"

"Look at his flawless skin. Maybe we could sell him to a… certain kind of club," another thug suggested with a twisted grin.

"Remember how many times he slapped you back at the track? I think you should return the favor, Mr. Madden—then work him over until he begs for death."

Juan gloated. "Did you hear that? You're in for a world of pain. You sure you don't want to beg for mercy now?"

Andrew replied impatiently, "I came here to teach Tony a lesson, not to watch a bunch of clowns put on a show. If you don't make your move soon, I'll make mine."

Juan roared with lau