Chapter 8
- It had begun to rain and the winds sweeping in through the windows were like soothing balm on Carlo’s warm flesh.
- The heavy smell of Cuban cigars lingered in the air, mingling with the jazz music coming from the old record player in the corner.
- That night was one of those nights he would host an orgy where his men would take turns shuffling and fucking the confiscated wives and daughters of enemies who had fallen short.