a's per

ing table, then looked at me with his greedy eyes. "I won't treat you wi

d no money at the moment, I was ho

ing the rest of your life in federal prison. Tonight, the FBI will move in. The location is an underground spot

nce reserved only for playing Chopin for mafia elites, had now become the most composed wings of redemption. Relying on the first aid skills honed in that dark w

yet deeply fascinated by the monster I had become

on, clearly knowing what was happening in Chicago three hundred mi

ather-the "General" Marco Moretti-is bowing to Lorenzo Farkone. To save me from the slander meticulously woven by

sually tosses an antique coin between his fingers, glancing a

the port," Lorenzo probes this new godfather. "In exchange, I declare your marr

st hesitation, coldly replied:

n't reg

ev

is family, throwing me into the wolves. He discarded us like trash. But he didn

dust from the Gary limesto

, the blood seeping into the rough canvas gloves. I needed clean cash to buy antibiotics for Angelo,

fleet of black Cadillacs parked at

top what I

eavily armed Moretti family soldiers. She spent days navigating the dirty streets, br

ud, knelt before me, indifferent to the mud staining her spotless dress. "Oh

pped my bleeding palm with a dirty cloth. My eyes were like a pool

were a whole week late. By the time they arrived, th

red cars waiting to take us back to Chicago as I looked pas