Chapter 35

Dominic’s POV

38

56 vouchers

Florence at night wasn’t the city tourists adored in postcards. It was sharp corners and darker intentions. A perfect hunting ground.

And tonight, I wasn’t the prey.

I stood in an abandoned textile warehouse overlooking the Arno, the air thick with dust and old cotton. My men were positioned throughout, guns ready. We had tracked a key Vitelli shipment here, weapons they planned to flood the streets with.

If we cut this off, we took a limb. The next step would be the throat.