CHAPTER FORTY ONE

Salvetti squeezed his nasal bridge. In this house, he was never allowed a moment of peace. In front of Salvetto's desk, the Capo sat with his hands folded on his leg and his ankle hooked over his knee, looking irritated. As Salvetti sighed angrily, he cocked an eyebrow.

If you had only answered your phone, son, none of this would have happened.

As he spoke, Salvetto's tone turned growly. "Can't you see I had a lot on my plate?"

You're kidding me. He let out a snort. Saying anything ridiculous is "ludicrous" is absurd.

While Salvetti stayed in the middle, Travis and Carter separated. Silent stone figures bound by oath.

Cowards.

"Are you going to explain why our two finest clients were killed?"

"No."

"Where's the cargo of guns?"

Yes, we did, and here it is:

Sooner or later, "a week from now." His voice radiated with disappointment. "The name Jesus Salvetti. You haven't been acting like yourself for weeks. Your behavior suggests that you are distracted. Honestly, do you want to be Capo?"