Adrian was seated at the back of his car being driven home when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. He brought the phone out and glanced at the caller ID.
Dante Moretti.
His jaw tightened as he stared at the name flashing across the screen. He considered letting it ring. Instead, he answered with deliberate slowness.
“This is unexpected,” Adrian said with a steady voice.
“We need to talk.” Dante’s tone was just as steady as his “Not over the phone.”
Adrian exhaled through his nose, leaning back into the plush leather seat of his luxury Mercedes. If Dante wanted a meeting, probably he had important information for him.
“Where?”
“The Black Orchid.”
The Black Orchid was a neutral zone, a place where men like them conducted business under the watchful eyes of the city’s underworld
