Caruso;
Smoke thick enough to choke fills the air, swirling in dark grey curls around my brooded form lounged on an armchair.
Sitting before the window, the curtains drawn close, bathing the entire room in darkness, only a slight slit permits a string of light crawling in as I sit with my fingers on my lips, taking a long, intoxicating drag of my joint.
My head lolls, landing on the backrest. I release a slow exhale of smoke, it slips from between my lips to merge with the rest hanging in the air.
A knock echoes once.
"Come in." I rasp out.
Michaelo's foot thuds before stopping in the middle of the room. "Boss,"
"Any news?" Irritated, I manage to suppress the anger spiraling in my head.
"Nothing yet, boss. But Fernandez hasn't left his estate since after that night."
That's clue enough. Either he has too much confidence in his hiding skills, or he's completely oblivious to who exactly he's dealing with.
