Dante
I step into the basement beneath Piacere and shut the door behind me. Flickering fluorescents light the racks and racks of liquor, spare stool, and coils of velvet rope. To the unknowing eye, the perfectly legal basement of a perfectly legal club owner. I snort and head for the third alcohol shelf from the left on the far wall, then rap on the metal I can just reach through the glimmering glass bottlenecks. After a brief pause, the whole section of wall swings aside, and I cross into the real basement.
Here, the lights are brilliant and steady. Only the best for my men. Clean, crisp metal lines the walls and the floor. Easy to clean. Hard to escape quietly over. Tony pushes the button to send the decoy rack careening back into place.
“Took you long enough.” He wipes the back of hi
