Isabella leaned forward in her armchair, her sharp eyes locked onto the two men sitting across from her. The dim lighting of the private room in Burj Lana cast long shadows across their faces, making their expressions harder to read.
"So tell me," she said, her voice smooth but edged with authority, "what is it you really want?"
The older man, Connor Marian, didn’t hesitate. "A fair deal," he said, his Irish accent thick. "A better deal than we had with the Vincenzos. That’s all we’re asking for."
Connor Marian was a well-known name in certain circles, an Irish drug dealer who had built his empire in the States, distributing for La Mano Nera. He was a man who had seen decades of deals, betrayals, and bloodshed. Beside him sat his son, Cillian Marian, a younger, far more dangerous ver
