Marco

The stench in the basement tickled my nostrils. It was mold, sweat, blood, piss, and a strong stench. It was everywhere, but I had gotten used to it. I’ve been down here too many times in the last few days.

The two bastards tied to the chairs in front of me had gone silent, one already slumped over with his face swollen and purple, the other still glaring up at me like he had something to prove.

They were the Chellinis’ boys, fiercely loyal to them. They had served them for years. I was about to put that loyalty to the test.

Francesco stood in the corner, arms crossed,...