THE LITTLE GIRL ASKED TO SIT WITH A STRANGER—BUT HER MOTHER NEVER EXPECTED THE MAFIA BOSS TO RECOGNIZE HER FACE

real numbers. Two nights, maybe less.”

Damen did not raise his voice.

“Then we get there first.”

In a corrugated steel warehouse off Quincy Avenue, Marcus sat across from Vincent Callaway beneath buzzing fluorescent lights.

Six of Callaway’s men stood along the wall.

“You failed once,” Callaway said. “There will not be a second failure.”

“Vance has them continue reading …