Callahan
"I need to sit down," David says. Antonio pulls the chair out, moves it around the desk and shoves it under him.
David sits, tucks his free hand into his pocket and takes out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead.
He looks up at Antonio, smiles a little, the look on his face strange before he turns his attention to me, that expression different, colder.
"I could have let you die, I didn't. It would have been better for Antonio if I'd let you die but I saved your life because he wanted me to. I did it for him."
"What do you mean it would have been better for me?" Antonio asks.
I can't peel my eyes from him. This man who, if what Fernando says is true, masterminded my family's m******e.
"You don't know anything. Neither of you. You never knew your father, not really. How ruthle
