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Chapter 1

Junior

It’s supposed to be a civilafter dark at Caffè Milano

Trouble is, you never knohen you’re dealing with Russianunpredictable feral bastards

We’re here today to talk territory They’ve been encroaching on our neighborhoods Moving drugs Working prostitution with females I suspect are enslaved

I don’t give a shit what they do anywhere else, and fuck knoe don’t have hborhoods anyation to keep the Russians out of them

We meet in the open, at a sidewalk cafe in Cicero We call it the old neighborhood, kinda like how eneration used to refer to the Old Country

We’re in the business of lending it, unless you count the beatdowns that co paye proportions and we’re now living in mansions in the suburbs Which doesn’t mean I don’t care about what happens in my territory

I see one of the younger bratva sitting at a table—Ivan, I think Vlad, their leader, doesn’t seem to be there

Cazzo I don’t like the way this is going

My brothers, Gio and Paolo, and I get out of the Range Rover, along with our soldiers, Mario and Luca We’re all ar weapons

“Where’s Vlad?” I ask Ivan Gio coed

Ivan shrugs, looking bored “Co”

The girl working the counter—a slouchy nize her but I don’t know her nai Milano, my father’s friend

“Mr Tacone” She greetsbut friendly In fact, her lips are drawn in a thin line and a lance at the Russian and back atboth of us in her place at the same time

I na location because I consider it friendly territory for us, but I wonder if, with the new generation, things have changed Maybe they’ve made deals with the Russians

I should be angry by the thought, but it registers as a low buzz, hardly an interest

“Can I bring you anything? An espresso? Cannoli?”

“Get lost,” the Russian snaps and she visibly jerks, and when her gaze swivels back toin it

Fuck