Vlad
When I wake after the operation, my vision swims from the drugs. Even with pain-killers, I feel the incision, the loss of my organ. As my eyes struggle to focus, I hone in on the dark, well-dressed figure looming over me.
He presses the hard muzzle of a pistol against my temple. “Give me one good reason not to shoot you.”
Junior. And behind him stand the two Tacone brothers from the Chicago outfit, Gio and Paolo.
I blink up, unafraid. If they want to kill me, they can. I deserve it. I suppose I expected to die by one of their hands the moment I decided to take Alessia.
I wronged their sister and now she lies recovering in a hospital bed because I couldn’t even keep her safe.
So no, there isn’t a good reason not to shoot me. Not really.
In the corner of the room I catch movement
