Chapter 75
DERRICK’S POV The bar I came to was the kind of place that didn't exist on any map. There was no sign above the door, no name on the window. It had just a heavy black door hidden at the side of a building in downtown Milan, guarded by men who didn't smile and didn't ask questions. Inside, the lighting was low and amber. Jazz played from somewhere in the back. The whiskey here cost more than most men made in a week, and the people who sat in the leather booths knew things that could start wars. I fit right in. I sat at the far end of the private lounge with my back to the wall the way I always preferred it. It was an old habit. You never let anyone get behind you. The booth was large enough to fit six people, but tonight it was just the three of us - me, Santi, and Ace - and a half
- Writer
