Lorenzo was nursing on a cigar, puffing smoke into the air lazily as he reclined on the couch, his right leg crossed above his left leg.
Vincenzo, on the other hand, was drinking whiskey, the liquid swirling in the glass as he lifted it up. He was a terrifying figure in the underworld. There wasn’t a soul out there who didn’t know about the callous Kingpin of the New York Brawlers, and his most loyal right-hand man, and brother, Lorenzo. Most would have trembled in their presence, but not me.
I kept my face neutral and my attitude disinterested, choosing to remain quiet in the presence of these men.
Suddenly, Vincenzo pushed off the chair, walking round the desk with slow strides, his right hand in his pocket, until he stood only a few steps away from me. His height towered over mine b
