Maria
The rain was hitting the skylights with a slow, steady tap — like a clock counting down.
Tommy's private office above the club was dim except for the desk lamp illuminating ledgers, shipping manifests, and the city map marked in red ink. The music downstairs throbbed faintly through the floor, a reminder of the empire breathing beneath us.
I am standing at the desk now.
Not beside it.
Not behind it.
At it.
Tommy watched from the leather chair in the corner, silent for once. "Talk," He said.
I studied the map. My fingers hovered over three territories before settling firmly on the north district.
"Azzurra doesn't want the docks," I began calmly. "She wants humiliation and control."
Tommy's eyes flicked up.
"She's been trying to provoke us for months. Small disruptions at fi
