Gerald and Mako walked into the estate just as the sun started to rise. The night had been long and bloody. Both men looked tired, but the tension in their shoulders had not eased. They went straight to the study. Gerald poured two drinks and handed one to Mako before dropping into the chair behind the desk.
“Who the f**k was that on the phone?” Gerald murmured.
Mako sat across from him and rubbed his face. “That was on my mind, the whole ride back. The voice was not familiar at all. Not the Luciano’s nor any of the smaller crews we’ve had problems with in the past. And it sure as hell was not Don Megalion. I would know that man’s voice anywhere.”
Gerald took a slow drink. “He knew about my father. He knew I had been hunting for five years. He knew enough to throw it in my face.”
“He
