I needed him focused on Julian, not on this stretch of coastline.

I opened my third burner phone, the one dedicated to the Costello inner circle.

I typed a short text to Gregory’s personal number.

*Maroni is moving on Pier 42 at midnight. He has the customs codes. Arthur needs to know.*

Gregory would immediately run to Arthur with this information to prove his own worth.

Arthur would react with his usual violent arrogance.

He would go to the pier himself, or send his best men.

Either way, they would walk directly into the state police blockade.

I closed the laptop and stood up.

The cabin was cold.

The small space heater in the corner hummed, but the draft from the ocean seeped through the floorboards.

I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of black coffee from the small pot.

It tasted burnt.

I drank it anyway, staring out at the dark water.

Julian Maroni thought he could use my departure to squeeze Arthur out of the city.

Arthur thought he could discard me like an old notepad and keep running his machinery.