Tension hangs thicker than fog ova' the Hudson as Vito Moretti storms into his study, fumin' fit to burst a gasket. His face looks like he's about to go nuclear as he slams his mitt on the desk.
"Quella troia...That bitch escaped my men!" he growls, rage twitchin' his craggy mug.
Before he could further indulge his tirade, the shrill trill of a phone pierced the tense air. Vito snatched it up like he's stranglin' a rat, his gravelly voice laced with impatience. "What is it? This better be good news."
The color drained from his face as the voice on the other end relayed the devastating update.
"Il Paradiso?! Burnt to the ground?!" he roared, spit flying from his lips.
Vito's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as realization dawned. "The DIGOS? Those bastardi are still around?" Memories of his brutal skirmishes with the elite anti-mafia task force in his violent youth flashed through his mind like a broken film reel.
