He didn’t stop until he reached the rooftop of his own building. Down below, Los Santos glittered. The rich folks in Vinewood saw a skyline of dreams. The tourists saw the lights.
“Yo, Slick. Get your head in the game.” It was Big D, his cousin and the closest thing he had to a conscience. D was built like a refrigerator, his white tank top stained with barbecue sauce and the memory of a thousand alleyway arguments. “Ballas pushing product on our turf again. Near the old donut shop.” gta sa hoodlum
“Carl’s doing three to five up in San Fierro,” D spat. “That leaves us. You, me, and Jamal’s shaky trigger finger.” He didn’t stop until he reached the rooftop
Marcus didn’t flinch. “That’s Carl’s territory now. Let him handle it.” The tourists saw the lights