ella

rbage. I pushed open the door to a dusty radio and telegraph supply shop. The bel

dragged over my tailored coat, his lips curling into a condescending smirk. "Buying a toy for your *Ca

y stepped closer, my silk-gloved finger tapping

polished ice. "Enough to build an encrypted node that Pinkerton directional trackers cannot trace." I let the silence stretch for a fraction

t beaded on his forehead. He realized instantly that he wasn't speaking to a bored, scorned housewife. He was lo

terror. He scurried to the hidden compartment in the back room, fetching my ars

w machine. As the soldering iron sparked in the dim light, my mind drifted to the top floor o

the mahogany wall, shattering it into a hundred pieces. Silvio, his chief accountant, would be trembling, swea

stammer, terrified for his life. *Spettro. We can't bypass i

hire the best expert from Chicago.* She wouldn't understand that this wasn't a technical glitch; it was a judgment from *L'Architetto*(The Architect) herself. Dante's blind rage and Adriana's

e silence of the factory was deafening, leaving too

room, surrounded by expensive toys she didn't want, crying for her *Mamma*. Dante, reeking of whiskey and cigars afte

and roar, *Your mother isn't here! She betrayed this family! A Falcone is always a Falcone

jagged blade in my chest. He was breaking her to spite me. But his cruel decree only proved his impotence. A true *Don

. I would tear his world apart brick by brick, until there was n