The next morning, Enzo opened the door and placed a sealed file on my breakfast table.Next to it was a freshly brewed espresso, steam rising from the cup."Staten Island," he said, his voice flat. "The tide was high. It's done. Clean."I took a sip of the coffee.The bitter taste was sharp on my tongue, but it was clearing my head.No tears. No trembling. Not even a flicker of emotion.The name Marco Rossi, like the ID card that would be canceled in that file, was now completely gone from the world."I see."I put the cup down, not even bothering to open the file. "Have the car brought around."I stood by the river, holding a bouquet of tulips as black as night.The "Queen of the Night," a flower seen only at Vettori family funerals.But I wasn't here for Marco.That greedy, weak, lying man didn't deserve a single petal.I looked down at the gray, churning water, an abyss that had swallowed countless sins and secrets.I opened my hand.The black bouquet cut a stark arc through the air
Read more
LOGIN
