“What about our catering operations?” I ask.
I’ve invested a lot of money and leveraged considerable connections to get the “eyes- and ears-off” treatment in this f*****g place. The guards are paid to kill the camera in the room when I have a visitor, but I still don’t take chances. I always use code when discussing illegal operations with my stepfather. Our illicit drug business is referred to as “catering,” and each product has its own stealthy label. I even had Nuncio set up a legitimate catering company to act as a front business, eliminating any possible suspicions.
“Steady profit margins there,” he says. “The demand for chicken has increased slightly in the last couple of weeks. We may need to find another farm because the current supplier is at maximum capacity.”
“Good. It may be
