“Assemble six of our best men.
We’re driving to Naples immediately.
I want to see what is inside Villa Mirabella.”
“Jefe,” advirtió Rocco, acercándose.
“San Giuliano está en lo profundo del territorio de Bellini.
Si Matteo está esperando allí…”
“I don’t care if the devil himself is waiting there,” I growled.
“Nos vamos en diez minutos”.
Before Rocco could turn to execute the order, the heavy satellite phone on my desk began to chime—a sharp, shrill sound that sliced through the quiet room.
I frowned.
That phone number was known to only four people in the world.
Dos estaban muertos.
Uno estaba parado frente a mí.
Me acerqué y recogí el receptor.
“Lorenzo,” una voz llegó a través del orador.
Mi mano se congeló.
The blood drained from my limbs.
La voz era delgada, rasposa, haciendo eco como si viajara a través de un largo túnel oscuro, pero su cadencia era inconfundible.
