Pauly’s POV.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Paul, you’ve already said that to me.”

I pulled Eleanor to the side in the opulent lobby that housed the Mancini brothers’ penthouse. Tucking us between two bookcases that contained old books and knickknacks, I tentatively scanned the occupants of the lobby. It was quiet for the most part. Just a few residents mulling about their mid-morning errands.

“These men aren’t like the men in Chicago. ...