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

up a narrow staircase to a private room on the second floor.

Two men stood outside.

Neither was Marcus.

They did not speak.

Inside, the room was small, warm, low-lit, with a round table for four and a window looking down onto Hanover Street, where rain had begun again and brake lights crawled red across the glass.

Damen was already standing.

For an instant,continue reading …