The Don's Wife, The Brother's Whore
I could hear it in the way his breathing changed once, subtly, before it returned to normal.
“And then?” he asked.
I looked at the map of New York again. Lucian’s properties. Sokolov’s routes. Damien’s compounds. The expensive lies holding the whole thing together.
“We burn New York.”
Salvatore inclined his head and left without another word.
I remained where I was.
On one screen, Lilith hit the ground, rolled badly, corrected herself, and rose again before Maleek could tell her to.
On the other, Valentina spun beneath lights she hated and collected eyes she did not want.