A Nurse for the Mafia Don
I said before pouring the remains in my glass onto the wound from the stab, and a piercing, scream left his lips.
“Last chance,” I said, running the tip of the knife coated with blood over this second thigh. His body went rigid, and his breathing sped up.
“Tell me who helped you, and I will make one call to make you disappear quietly. A new life, new identity, maybe a new beginning.”
He looked at me, tears pooling down his face. “It was,” he coughed, choked, then spit blood. “It was someone from the port. He said his name was Marco LaRosa But his accent was fake. He gave me the port codes and asked for the goods,”
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