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72
LEVI
I rested my hand on Nico’s shoulder—or I should say I rested my hand on Don Niccolò Greco’s shoulder. He wasn’t Nico anymore. He was Padrino over all New York.
He sat down in the chair behind my desk—Don Alonzo’s desk—except that Nico outranked even Don Alonzo. He outranked all of us, includi...