"You sold my shipment to the Albanians," Vincenzo said, his voice soft as a prayer. "You sat at my table. You ate my salt. And this is how you thank me?"
She was supposed to be a negotiation chip. An American tourist with the wrong last name and the right bloodline. But when she looks at him without fear, Alessandro feels something he buried long ago: hunger. the italian don
Vincenzo set down his glass. He didn't need to shout. He never did. He simply nodded to Luca, his underboss, who stepped forward with a stiletto. "You sold my shipment to the Albanians," Vincenzo
He will protect her. He will possess her. And if anyone tries to take her away, he will burn this city to the ground. And this is how you thank me
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"In my father's time," Vincenzo whispered, "they would have kept you alive for three days. But I am a modern man." He patted the traitor’s cheek. "I will make it thirty seconds. But you will feel every single one."