The Price of Mercy and the Shadow of the Moretti Family
He didn’t offer me any.
“A desperate man watches,” he said. “He probably saw my men cruising the block earlier.”
“But where would he go?” I asked.
“Somewhere he feels safe,” Vincent said. “Or somewhere he can buy his way into.”
I rubbed my forehead, trying to stop the pounding in my skull.
“He has my papers,” I said. “He can use them to find where I register for work, or my bank accounts.”
“It’s worse than that,” Vincent said.
He took a sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on the dark liquid.
“Paul owes a lot of money to the wrong people.”
I looked up at him. “How much?”
“More than a line cook can make in three lifetimes,” Vincent said.
He set the glass down on the cabinet with a soft click.
“He’s been gambling at the back of the butcher shop on Grand Street.”
“That’s Corrado’s territory,” I said, the name tasting like ash in my mouth.
“Yes,” Vincent said. “Don Corrado.”
He walked back to the window, looking down at the wet street below.