They reached Sabbia Bianca by the time night settled over the coast. The city was just as Vincent remembered.
Houses climbed the slope of the old dormant mountain, each tier lit softly from within, each higher step offering a view of the ocean stretching into the darkness.
Tourists drifted through the winding streets even at this hour, the glow of storefronts settling over them like a warm veil.
It was exactly this beauty, and the steady flow of outsiders, that kept the place neutral ground. Lucero, Lunox, the smaller crews, all of them stayed civil here.
Except for Dominus, they were never included in these agreements, but they never followed anyone's rules anyway.
Vincent pulled the car up in front of a modest two-story house. Nothing impressive, nothing loud. Just quiet, familiar warmth.
He crouched by the flowerpot near the door, fished out the old key, and let himself inside. Everything looked untouched.
