Lorenzo
I was seated in a secluded booth at what used to be Elio's club, now the Volka's by right of conquest. The dim, pulsating lights and the throbbing bass of the music and the curvy w***e in my lap did little to brighten my mood. I was on a s**t ton of painkillers and drinking and yet everything hurt.
That Sasha bastard had been sadistic and ruthless, but he'd get what was coming to him. Elio had contacts of his own among the Russians, one of them, Dimitri, had agreed to meet me. He sat across from me, flipping through a dossier of papers.
“I’ve got plans in motion,” I said, my voice a low growl as I leaned forward. “Albert thinks he’s won, but this is far from over. I intend to make him pay for what he’s done, and for the humiliation he’s inflicted on me.”
Dimitri nodded, his eye
