I groan as I wake up in an uncomfortable position on the sofa where I crashed last night. The leather squeaks underneath me as I twist to reach for my phone that's bouncing off the coffee table. The call woke me up. It's fucking four o'clock in the morning. Who the hell is disturbing my sleep?
An unknown caller flashes on my screen and I hesitate for a second before hitting the green button and putting the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"The council requests a meeting."
I sit up, running my fingers through my hair as I wonder what they want now. I think it's Don Romano's consigliere who's calling, judging by how hoarse his voice is. I've only met the man twice, but I won't forget his voice. The Romanos are from the south of the country, lording over Texas. "What for?"
"You'll know when you get there. Pinnacle Hotel, penthouse suite. 8:30."