The alley smelled of oil and rot, secluded behind an abandoned bar in the rougher part of town, where no cameras worked.

This wasn't a part of town for any high class people.

Jessica pulled the hood of her coat tighter around her face as her heels clicked against the cracked pavement. She spotted him leaning casually against a black SUV, smoking, as if this wasn’t a betrayal in motion.

Marco Cingarette.

The youngest but most volatile of the Cingarette bloodline.

And for Jessica, her big ...