While I couldn’t see his skin, my choice wasn’t the best because now I could see the outline of his muscles under his fitted black shirt. The lean, yet strong cut chest and shoulders.
I couldn’t deny it, Massimo Lombardi was appealing to the eye. Luring even, with his hard and quiet demeanor.
I stared back at his eyes.
He was staring back at mine.
MASSIMO
Miami
I read the numbers and statistics of the legitimate business I owned and compared their data with the figures from offshore accounts my tablet displayed. A distraction I needed to keep the demon away from seeing my favorite color painted on the streets of New York.
Franco Zanetti tested my patience with his disrespect. As an old and proud man stuck in the old ways of the Mafia, I had expected it. Even looked forward to it. To
