“What happened?” Elio, Lorenzo’s younger brother and the underboss of the Moretti organization just comes right out and asks the question I’m sure they’re all thinking. I suppose I should be proud of the fact that me turning up with an injury is worthy of front page news. I adjust my tie and cross my ankle over my knee. “Your dad plays rougher than I expected.” I keep my expression deadpan and Elio furrows his brow. “My dad is dead,” he reminds me with the kind of charming ignorance only Elio could pull off. “Zombie sex,” Salvatore says with a snort, and Elio’s frown only gets deeper. “He’s
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