Vicenzo POV

The ticking clock on the wall felt louder with every passing second.

Tick.
Tick.
Tick.

Each sound echoed like a countdown to my destruction.

I paced back and forth in my bedroom, one hand in my hair, the other clenched into a fist. My temples throbbed. My jaw tightened.

“How the f*ck does he expect me to pay forty percent?” I spat, kicking the leg of the table, sending a crystal ashtray shattering against the marble floor.

“He lost two men, I lost four!” I barked into ...