"You have no right to be the president, Mayor Yuri,"

He didn't even look up as he spoke, his thumb idly tracing the rim of his glass. "I know your history. I know you are half Korean, half Italian. You came to Italy fifteen years ago and started out working under my late uncle, Marco. You killed a lot of people to climb up his ladder. And I also know you stole from him."

Mayor Yuri’s face instantly drained of color, his fingers tightening against his leather briefcase.

"Since my uncle’s death, the people who used his influence have scattered," Giovanni continued, finally looking up, his dark eyes fixed on...