out the front door to the waiting town car. My emotions are volatile, and he senses it. I stand there a moment, and then I follow him outside. I have responsibilities and a dynasty I can no longer ignore. * * * Less than two hours later, the private jet skids across the runway before slowing to a snail’s pace. It creeps toward the row of hangars lining its perimeter and the black town car waiting there. Two figures stand outside the vehicle. The aircraft comes to a jerky halt. One of the men steps forward to greet us as we descend the stairs. “Emilio, it’s good to see you.” Paulie embraces me
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