Giovanni sat in the dimly lit study, the smoke from his half-burned cigar curling toward the ceiling slowly but surely. His fingers drummed against the polished mahogany desk, the steady tap of impatience echoing in the silence.

He was out, Kingston was out! After all the work he put in, all the lies he whispered to very high and important people to make sure he was locked up… he was out, just because of his son's carelessness.

Then the door creaked open. Giovanni knew who it was.

His ...