A week after the snows of Montreal, the world began to settle into a quiet, cold rhythm.

The ripples of Jean-Luc Moreau’s sudden death had spread quickly through the underworld, but they had not brought the chaotic war Luca Rossi had feared. Instead, they brought

The heavy velvet drapes of the Grand Ballroom in the St. Regis Hotel were drawn completely shut, blocking out the midmorning glare of Fifth Avenue. Inside, the vast room was bathed in the warm, amber glow of massive crystal chandeliers. The air was thick, smelling

While the Commission had officially recognized my rule, the embers of Lorenzo’s past left small fires that still needed extinguishing.

Three days after the St. Regis assembly, Matteo and I drove out to a secluded beachfront estate on the North Shore of Long Isl