Chapter 1
The waitress slid a crumpled receipt across the table to me. I unfolded it, and my blood turned to ice.
I sat in the back booth, watching the rain streak the Boston windows. No one knew I was here. Not even my own men.
She set my coffee down slow, like she always did. Then she leaned in and slipped the paper under my saucer.
Her hand was shaking.
I waited until she walked away. Then I lifted it.
Three words, scrawled in pencil: THEY ARE HERE.
Underneath, she'd written three names.
I read the first. My oldest friend.
The second. My trusted captain.
The third. My own brother.
At the very bottom, in tiny letters: THE KITCHEN. IN FIVE MINUTES.
I folded the paper shut. I didn't look up. But I felt it.
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Every exit was blocked. Every man in this room worked for someone else.
And the girl wiping the counter was the only one who hadn't drawn a weapon yet.
