The flight back to France felt like hours as Santino stared out the window at clouds. His father's ring sat heavy in his pocket.
Planning to betray El Amore. Salvatore's words echoed in his head. They'd talked for another hour in the hotel room about his father's final months, about meetings with rival families, about stolen shipments and missing money.
He wondered how Salvatore got all this information, but he couldn't ask because all his mind was on why El Amore might have ordered the execution.
"Your father got greedy," Salvatore had said. "He thought he could play both sides."
But something felt wrong. His father had been many things—violent, ruthless—but never stupid and definitely not greedy.
The plane landed smoothly as Santino took a taxi to his apartment. The driver talked ab
