The storm had rolled in just before midnight, turning Philadelphia's streets into slick black mirrors that reflected the flickering neon signs of the city. Sophia Vincenzo watched the raindrops race down the tinted window of her SUV, her fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against the leather seat. The mercenaries Matteo had arranged for her sat in silence. Four hardened men in nondescript black jackets who knew better than to speak unless spoken to.
"Are we ready?" Sophia asked, her voice cutting through the hum of the engine.
The man in the front passenger seat, Kovac, the Serbian with the scar across his eyebrow nodded once. "The Building is clear. No doorman, and no cameras in the stairwell. Just her."
Sophia's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Then let's not
