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Weekly Contest #127
I feel a knot in my stomach as I approach the door to Mr. Russo’s office. This can’t be good, but I cannot back down at this point. He already knows I’m here. For the past ten years since I took command of the weapons’ dealings department in Calabria, that knot has saved me many times. Say it’s a warning signal from universe, say it intuition, this thing has served me well and I have no good reason not to trust it. And its presence now starts to worry me. I met Valentino Russo about a month ago at a gala held in a manor house in the out...
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