There are rules you must follow if you want to survive in this world.

Not the usual—be nice to your neighbors, take the trash out before it reeks, and keep the noise down after ten—kinda stuff.

I’m talking about real rules. Mafia rules.

Like:

You don’t kill a man on his own front lawn.

You don’t take a shot at the boss of all bosses unless you have damn good aim.

And under no circumstance does one family murder a member of another without the boss’s blessing.

Break those rules, and people bleed.

So when a known New York City mafia figurehead shows up to Tim and Aubree’s wedding, then winds up dead before sunrise, Estefan Cordoza wants blood.

And he thinks it should be mine.

He’s pointing fingers, dragging my family into a mess we didn’t make, and worse, he’s pushing my wife into the crossfire.

I don’t want a war.

But if he’s starting one—

I won’t stand down.

Estefan Cordoza has had a long reign.

Might be time for a new regime in New York.