Intro. Daniel's phone vibrated against his thigh, not with a call, but with an alert. The photo of a man entering a trendy Italian restaurant, "Il Cielo" . Marco, the cousin of customs. Gorilla's message read: "Dining with his mistress. Anniversary. It has flowers."
A faint trace of contempt curled Daniel's lips. Flowers. Gestures of a soft world that he had incinerated long ago. The order to wait had been disobeyed. Elijah's lesson had not been enough. Now, the affront was twofold: the fault and the insolent happiness.
"We're not going to wait for tomorrow" , Daniel said into the receiver, his voice a rumor of a nearby storm. "Let's go now" .
The black car, an unbranded sedan with a growling engine with contained power, glided through the neon-lit streets. Inside, Daniel checked "La Fiel" . One cartridge in the chamber, six more in the magazine. Enough. Gorilla, at the wheel, exuded adrenaline. He was good at intimidating, but pure action put him in