Von POV I'd learned to read violence before I could read books.Growing up as the hidden son of a mafia king meant understanding intent before action, seeing death in a man's eyes before his hand ever moved. My father had trained me for a world I'd rejected, but the instincts remained, carved into my bones like commandments.The man approaching us carried death in his smile."Move," I told Marissa again, positioning myself between her and the threat.She didn't argue this time. Smart woman.The attacker was mid thirties, muscular but sloppy in his approach. Prison tattoos crawled up his neck gang affiliations I recognized from my father's world. His eyes were glassy. Drugs, probably. Someone had paid him to do this, pumped him full of courage."Castellano," he said, still smiling. "You and the bitch gotta go. Nothing personal.""It never is." I kept my voice calm, measured. "Who paid you?"He laughed. "Like I'd tell you that." The shank caught the light. "Boss said make it look like
Last Updated : 2025-12-29 Read more