OMERTÀ
he said, voice like gravel, breathy with smoke.
A pause. “The package?”
“Gone. Sea doesn’t give things back.”
Terenzi exhaled, relief bleeding through the receiver. “And the other name?”
There was a long beat.
“Fabri,” the man said, and even the mention was enough to sour the taste in his mouth. “Still breathing.”
Terenzi cursed under his breath. “Why?”
“Because I don’t pull the trigger unless I see the whites of their eyes. And that rat didn’t have the guts to show his. I sent men, and he killed them all, the only one who made it back is useless now.”
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