Roxanne Meyers

After the helicopter took us out of Salvatore territory, we arrived at a private airport, lost in the middle of nowhere, like everything that seemed to surround the life of gangsters. There we boarded an elegant private jet, small and discreet, designed only for a few people. I felt a strange relief that I was not surrounded by the constant presence of the bodyguards. It was as if, for the first time in a long time, he could breathe something resembling normality.

We sat together on a large sofa. We tightened our seatbelts as the plane began to climb. Fatigue weighed on me, and although words hardly dared...