Last Prayers

"Without the paperwork, Don, there's no way we can confirm the ammunition was meant for the Mafia." The man sitting opposite him leered, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground.

They were about five of them in the red-lit room that had black leather chairs as seats, making it easy for Don to lean and grab him by the throat.

But he also knew he had Don almost out of options: either get the papers or let the ammunition slide, which wasn't going to be a big deal for him anyway, but he knew how stubborn the Devil was.

Even now, he only fell back on his seat, popped open a few buttons, and stared back at him, his face unreadable, probably steaming and itching for his gun.

But this was business; if the papers couldn't be found, then they had nothing against him...

"Besides Capo Bastone, God bless his soul," he said, making the sign of the cross, "he should have let you know about the papers."

Zayne blinked. He heard the shuffling from around the table; he felt the tension oozing from