TRUCE
POV: Sasha --- The convoy moved through the gray morning like a line of wolves. Five SUVs, black, windows tinted. Antonio's men, handpicked. Marco sat beside me, his hand on my knee, steady. I stared out the window at the streets slipping past. Staten Island. Dmitri's territory. The place where my father had built his empire. The place where I'd learned to kill. "Almost there," Marco said. "I know." "You don't have to do this." "We've had this conversation." "And I'll keep having it until you change your mind." I looked at him. "I'm not going to change my mind." "I know that too." He squeezed my knee. "But I had to try." --- The safe house was a mansion. Old stone, wrought iron gates, ivy crawling up the walls. It looked like something from another century – elegant, untouchab
- Writer
