Chapter 100

Enzo's pov

I freed yet another button on my satin dress shirt, cursing hard in Italian as I ordered more ice for my half drunk glass of whiskey. The air was growing stiffer than usual now we were approaching July and even the insulation of Dorato's wasn't proving ineffective against the irrepressible humidity.

The bartender ran over to me at once with a classic steel ice bucket, dropping two more