Black Coffee, Blacker Lies

Victor Malone was supposed to burn. One clean cremation, one fat insurance payout, end of story. But the widow miscalculated.

Lila Voss — rich, cold, venom in heels — picked the wrong corpse. Forged dental records, a swapped body, five million on the line. All she needed was Vic dead by dawn. He almost obliged.

Almost. Vic crawled out of the fire half-paralyzed and wholly furious, with one bullet, one reel of tape, and one night left to ruin everyone who tried to bury him. This isn't a redemption story. It's a reckoning — sharp as a razor, cold as a morgue slab.