DAMIEN
“We have to hit Yorkville on First Avenue. That old geezer in there did not pay last month’s kickback. He owes a thousand. Drake, you have Park Avenue, The Franklin Hotel.
The owner’s name is Franco. He already paid. Just collect the invoice from him.”
I read from the crumpled run sheet Gareth gives me at the start of every month. The paper is soft at the creases and smells faintly of smoke. We have just arrived in New York and I can feel the storm about to roll in. My heart is pounding, and adrenaline is already doing its work. This is the part of the job I live for. There is a sharp, greedy joy in it. I even hope, selfishly, that a few people fall behind on payments so we can teach them a lesson and wreck the nice things the upper class protects.
I look up at Nova. She is ta
