30
Savio
A day before.
I walked into the dimly lit room of Tommaso Gallo’s headquarters in Miami with Sante and my guards a few steps behind. Tommaso normally didn’t let anyone enter with guns, but as the head mob boss, I never followed the rules. Tommaso sat at the head table, and I sat on the other end of the five-chair table. Everyone waited for me to sit, and I adjusted my jacket to get comfortable before I blew everyone’s world up.
“Thank you for coming, Savio. I know you’ve recently married. Congrats,” Tommaso said in his thick Italian accent and held up a shot glass. I never drank in front of them, nor did Sante. Unless you were my brother or father, I never trusted a soul. Friends made the worst enemies in my world, and Tommaso could try anything.
“I didn’t think you called me
