Chapter 3

A real taxi driver wouldn’t fight his car this much. The young man fumbled over what should’ve been easy answers, too. But Joe got his light bulb moment when he caught the reflection of the kid’s mouth as he groused about the interrogation.

If it’d been daytime, if he hadn’t been distracted by the chill and wet, he would’ve made the connection the second he saw him. He didn’t know the young man’s name, but a face like his was unforgettable. Sure, Joe had seen some good-looking Italians in his time, but frankly, the potential for power, the wrong kind, burned away any appeal they might’ve had by the time they turned legal. The Families sucked them in, made promises on the backs of history, then bathed their children in blood and violence until that was all they knew. Most of them never stood a chance.