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Toni killed the engine and walked up, hands in his coat pockets. “Evening, boys. That’s Leone cargo.”

He picked up a vest, then dialed Vincenzo. “It’s clean. But tell Salvatore his ‘produce’ just turned into a war declaration.” Toni killed the engine and walked up, hands

The docks were a maze of shipping containers and silence. Three men in cheap suits stood by a crate marked “Fragrant Olive Oil.” Amateurs. They didn’t even have a lookout. “It’s clean

Toni looked at the screen, then at the body armor vest in his passenger seat. He tapped without a second thought. In Liberty City, the free trial was over the moment you stepped off the boat. They didn’t even have a lookout

Toni sighed. He thought of his mother’s meatballs waiting for him. He thought of the 30-minute free trial he’d used up just to re-learn the controls on his phone. Time’s up.

Toni smirked. Vincenzo. Still using middlemen. Still too scared to ask him directly.

His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “The Leone family sends its regards. We have a problem at the docks. A shipment of ‘produce’ is being rerouted by some freelancers. Clean it up. — V”