Two-and-a-half months ago, I sank to my knees on the doorstep of Alberto’s white colonial mansion and begged for mercy. Now, I’m living a life I don’t recognize; playing a side character in a story I don’t understand. Everyone on the Devil’s Coast knows the Visconti family because they own almost everything on it. Every bar, hotel, restaurant, and casino in Devil’s Cove. The Smugglers Club whiskey factory in Devil’s Hollow. The one corner of this coast their reach hasn’t touched is my humble hometown of Devil’s Dip. And if Alberto keeps his side of the deal, it never will.
