The Kind Killer (1)

Romano sipped a glass of whisky before speaking, "What is the status of things?”

A tall, muscular man stood to his feet, dressed in a fine Italian suit. He was in his mid-twenties, with short brown hair. “Our shipments arrived at the docks…” he announced, “As usual, we encountered no difficulties in clearing the goods. Lorenzo and Faustino have picked up the goods from the docks and they will be dispatched by midnight at the latest.”

“Luca Moretti,” Romano called out, a grin plastered on his face. “Good work.” He shifted his gaze to the big, burly man. “Colombano? my money?”

“A hundred grand has been sent to the clubs. Zanetti picked it up this afternoon, and it should be squeaky clean before the end of the week.”

“So it was good business, huh?” Romano asked in a cheerful voice.

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

“Anything else?”

Orlando cleared his throat. Ricci rolled his eyes. Luca scoffed.

“Orlando.”

He leaned closer to Romano and whispered inaudibly in his ears. A sly smile played