He adjusted his glasses, his tone carrying an undeniable firmness. "The outfit has rules. Before you walk out of here, you sign a statement declaring that everything you did during your time with us has no connection to the crew. You'll also sign an Omertà pact. Just to make sure you don't use what you know to poach our contacts and our arrangements once you're on the outside."
Not long ago, everyone in the social club knew me as Nico's promised woman. With my ability to secure high-profile connections and broker arrangements with the other families, I was treated with nothing but the best hospitality. Sal was especially eager to involve me in his dealings. He would bow his head and sweetly address me as "Signora Bracciale." That was in the past though. Now, he looked down at me with a self-satisfied smirk, as if belittling me could somehow restore his own sense of superiority.
I took in his pathetic display and said coldly, "A statement? An Omertà pact? What makes you think I'd ever sign them?"