The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured backyard of Valentina Moretti's North Jersey home. For a rare moment, the phone wasn't ringing, no one was asking for a favor, and the books for her legitimate businesses had already been signed off for the day. Reclining beside the pool with a cigar between her fingers, she enjoyed the precious silence that came with believing work had finally ended. Then the burner phone on the table buzzed. One glance at the number told her this wasn't a social call.

"Yeah?... Slow down. Start from the beginning." She listened for a few seconds, exhaling a slow plume of smoke. "...Nobody does anything until I get there. And tell Tommy if he says the words 'I got an idea' one more time, I'm turning this car around before I even leave the driveway."