Chapter 126

Giovanni, 16 years old...

My heart pounded as I entered the club with my father's men in tow. I was there for one thing—the money the manager owed my father.

"Excuse me," I muttered, pushing through the throng of dancers. My fingers brushed against slick skin, sticky fabrics. The scent of alcohol and perfume made my eyes water and it was suffocating.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for the man I was looking for.

"Back off!" A woman's sharp voice cut through the noise as someone stumbled against her.

"Sorry," came the muffled reply, lost in the next pulse of music.

I found him then, the manager, laughing at the bar with a glass in hand, carefree. He hadn't seen me yet. Good. I approached, ready to remind him of his debts.

"Time to pay up," I said, each word deliberate, heavy.

His laughter died, and he turned to look at me. "Who the fuck are you? You don't look old enough to be here."