Series: My uncle told me I was being shipped off to New Jersey to serve a mandatory alliance contract with a veteran syndicate partner named Gabe DeLuca.

Vic didn’t answer Don Moretti’s call. He ignored it, then dialed my number. His voice, when I picked up, was a low, dangerous growl, laced [more…]

The silence after I hung up on Vic was short-lived. My phone rang again almost immediately, this time with an unknown number. I answered. “Leo [more…]

The three-hour deadline pressed down on Vic Ross like a physical weight. Panic etched deep lines on his face as he paced his luxurious office, [more…]

Vic Ross sat alone in his luxurious, yet eerily silent, executive office in Manhattan. The three-hour deadline had long passed. His phone lay on the [more…]

Two hours later, the silence of Vic’s executive office was replaced by the cacophony of official business. Federal tax officials and syndicate liquidators arrived simultaneously, [more…]

Later that same evening, just four hours after the climax, the world felt strangely quiet. I sat at a worn laminate counter inside an ordinary [more…]