Reinaldo

“Weapons,” the famiglia guard said, standing by the elevator in the parking garage.

Begrudgingly, I handed over my gun and two knives. I still had one blade strapped to my ankle in case of emergency. Thankfully, the guard was too busy gathering Diego’s and Felipe’s guns to question my honesty. It wasn’t a matter of being truthful, simply deceitful through omission.

We entered the elevator, and the guard flashed his card, whisking us up into the Kansas ...