Chapter 71

VICTOR

I met Vincenzo in the cigar lounge for our weekly debrief. The room smelled of smoke and leather, the city noises muffled behind heavy drapes. New York had been a dead end so far; pulling useful intel out of that mess took more patience than I had to spare.

“The don has been on edge,” Vincenzo said, settling into the armchair opposite me. “He’s been executing men left and right — traitors,