ADRIANO’S POV
The study reeked of cigars.
I stood by the mahogany desk, sleeves rolled, tie undone, dark rings under my eyes from too many sleepless nights. Salvatore was seated, sharp as ever in his black suit, arms folded across his chest. Across from him were two of my men, Luca and Matteo, laying out the logistics for our next shipment from Palermo.
"Everything moves Friday night. The port guards have been bribed. No delays this time,” Matteo said, pointing at the map spread across the table.
“Make sure of it,” I muttered, jaw clenched. “I don’t want to hear about another f*****g ‘complication.’ If even a crate goes missing, you’ll pay with more than your mouth.”
Salvatore chuckled lowly. “Still ruthless, even with the lady living under your roof now?”
Before I could snap at him,
