The smell of tobacco curled through the air like smoke from a battlefield. Carlisso Cross sat behind his old mahogany desk, sleeves rolled up, a lit cigarette balanced between his fingers, and a glass of scotch untouched at his side.
He didn't look up when Damien walked in. He just kept reviewing the ledgers in front of him.
"You wanted to see me?" Damien asked.
Carlisso finally raised his eyes — those dark, calculating eyes that saw everything and gave away nothing.
"Sit down, son."
Damien sat. "Where are Sebastian and Marcel?"
"No, it's just you today," Carlisso said smoothly.
"You know, Damien," he began, "Power is the most important thing a man can have. It buys loyalty. It demands respect. It silences enemies."
Damien watched him silently.
Carlisso continued, tapping ash into a crystal tray. "Without power, a man is weak. And weakness is a sin — one the world doesn't forgive."
