I’m going to need all nine of you to get back in your vehicles.”

“That’s — that’s impossible,” Marcus stammered, fumbling for his phone.

“I’m calling Luca right now.

This is a mistake.”

It was not a mistake.

It was the single least mistaken thing that had happened in that house in years.

Chapter 10 — Call Luca

Down in Miami, at a white-tablecloth steakhouse, Luca’s phone lit up in the middle of dinner, and he answered it laughing, a glass of wine in his hand.