Darius' POV

“The bastard poisoned himself.” Dante sighed, running a hand through his hair.

I clenched my teeth and walked toward the man who’d stopped convulsing. Froth clung to his lips, his body unmoving. I kicked him hard. “Hey!”

“Darius,” Omarion placed his hand on my shoulder. “He’s dead.”

I glared down at the lifeless man. “He’s literally insane. He’d rather die than say anything against the Patriarch.”

Dante sighed heavily behind me. “Yeah.”

Omarion crouched near the body, his brow furrowing. “If I had an idea, I would’ve searched him more thoroughly. Who knew he’d be hiding pills? Do they walk around with these things?”

I rubbed my forehead....