Nick
The night fell on the city like a heavy and wet blanket. The flashing lights of the lanterns barely managed to cross the mist that clung to the corners, as if even the air were afraid to move. In an aged brick building, hidden behind an Italian restaurant facade on 89th Street, Marco Deluca watched the world from his office on the last floor. The smoke of his cigar floated in slow spirals, such as tangled thoughts, and his dark eyes followed the sway of cars in the rain. Marco was not a man who feared easily. From a young age he had learned that fear was a weakness that smelled like sweat, and that in his world, show
About Nick
The night fell on the city like a heavy and wet blanket. The flashing lights of the lanterns barely managed to cross the mist that clung to the corners, as if even the air were afraid to move. In an aged brick building, hidden behind an Italian restaurant facade on 89th Street, Marco Deluca watched the world from his office on the last floor. Th...Read more