Killian
No one would assume anything about tonight was abnormal. My men moved between the crates stacked nearly to the ceiling while others mingled in small groups, the air thick with cigarette smoke.
I moved toward the open bay of the main warehouse. It sat on a property I owned across the city from my house. Not too close, not too far. Alonzo had been right. Giuseppe’s revenge for his father’s death at my hands would happen tonight, right here, any minute now.
I imagined his guys were already waiting somewhere in the tree line surrounding the trio of warehouses. I glanced up at the twinkling starlight and ripple of golden haze drifting up from Philadelphia in the distance before turning my back to the garage bay and walking toward the back of the warehouse, where Tommaso, Francesco, a
