A MONTH AGO.
I had jobs to do. Little fires I liked to set and stomp out on my own terms. Philly was the first, and whatever Vincenzo's neat lines were, they didn't interest me tonight; the Salvatores and Moretti did. Since both of them liked to hide, I preferred to make things personal.
Alessandro had given me Westchester and a file stamped with his signature, temporary control over certain De Laurentiis territories, carte blanche to straighten things that had been crooked. He could yank it back with a single line of ink, so I had to make it count in my way. Although the assignment made my life easier, it gave me the runway I needed to run my particular kind of chaos.
If Andrés wouldn't talk to Dad and let me work clean, I would return with pieces on the floor and a press relea
