ar an intoxicating mix that Cel

n't smile. She didn't w

n's private chamber like it b

d to sip wine. Others adjusted cufflinks or shifted in their chai

se, face stretched into a politician'

d, Signora Moretti,

ong the glossy marble table as she walked its length

dership. About my future. I thought it'

huckled nervously.

g unrest," he said. "Gio

t sharp. "And now he's a corpse.

him without

slightly, her black leather gloves c

I don't need your votes. I don't need your approval. I built th

e cracked. "You f

lded photo from her leather jacket. Sli

ew strung up in a rival gang's w

arn

oss me again, and I'll have your

stood but quickly sat back do

ed now," she said, sna

n rule alone," A

the door. Looked

m alone?" sh

le

nto the hallway, her pho

wn nu

not the only d

ed at th

ed into a slo

m tired of eating prey. Le