Billy gave the lawyer in sunglasses a long, hard look.
"You're good."
Then he cocked his head, laughed heartily, and left with his men. The sound of their dress shoes scraping against the marble floor soon faded down the corridor.
Even gang bosses generally avoided going after two kinds of people.
One was doctors, and the other was lawyers.
Kill the former, and when you got injured someday, there might be no one willing to treat you—you would die. Kill the latter, and who would be willing to defend you in court later? Were you supposed to count on some law student appointed by the state?
When you lived this kind of life, it was easy to get sued.
"You shouldn't have stopped me."
Frank leaned back. He had wanted to kill his enemy just now, but he was not so insane that he would drag strangers into it.
There were quite a few enemies. If any of them had reacted and opened fire, he would have been fine, but the lawyer beside him would have been in danger.
"Don't be impulsive. We can appeal again, if you're willing to entrust the case to me." The lawyer smiled, tapped the floor a few times with his cane, and felt his way over to sit beside Frank.
"Your eyes?"
Frank was observant enough to immediately realize that the man was blind. Even if he was not, he had to have severe cataracts affecting his vision.
That cane was clearly a white cane. The lawyer could not see.
The other man did not mind his question and merely smiled and nodded. "That's right. I was caught up in a car accident once, and chemicals corroded my eyes. But life has to go on, doesn't it?"
"I don't have any money. I might