Made to be the Mafia lords own

nio'

ight on Morgan Street. Even from behind the windshield

omato sauce, and freshly baked bread coming from the man

es lining both sides of the building. I put my hand on the knob, p

***

eeks e

the streets look like a fictional paradigm. Too many colors. Vi

eview. Sleek and black. A thirty-f

traffic and the lights of the city reflected in the wet pavement. My eyes are fixed on the large, imposin

ghts blink three times. I checked my watch. Right on time. I take my Colt Python and stuff it into the waist

of them. But th

night,

el us coming, Fran

," they a

lets start firing. I'll go in alone so they thi

aid th

n the safe room,

ove to hid

ck, capo," Juto point

m, and with a determined strid

***

as its easy access to the lakefront. It's a lively neighborhood with a diverse population and a goddamn place to live if you want to be close to the action. Which should be the

rim. From what my men have told me, I know that the last floor of the

said, his hand resting

meet his gaze, unflinching. "Soni

ation passing between them. Finally, one of the

oks too

he top floor. As I ascend, I take out my gun, check the mag, and check the spares in my ankle

e a Roman knot. I need to move quickly. Without hesitation, I r

spin around, my gun hand out, and fire back. The bullet hits the guard square in the chest, and he crumples to th

er correct. I have to get to the safe room, no matter what. I turn a corner and see the door that leads to the safe room in front of me. It is heavily reinforced, and very clear that I will hav

I find myself in a large, dimly lit space. There is a desk in the middle of

my uncle's henchman

his eyes cold and calculatin

n tightens. "Oh, Luigi. B

omments. "And qui

y dumb guards. Why waste money on t

here to bant

urface. Doesn't seem like they'll be going anywhere soon. My eyes move to the door behind

" he says, his voice mocking. "It's impene