The men at his back were a mix of Mexican and Italian descent, in various shapes of build, ranging from short and stumpy to tall and muscly. How the fuck a man like Nero could gain control of Los Zetas was beyond me. And not only gain control, but keep it. “My name is Nero.” He smiled, trying to go for friendliness, but I could tell it was forced. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
