I found a blind man locked in my brother's apartment and treated him like a pet—fed him, bathed him, walked him on a leash. For two weeks, he let me. Then my brother called: "I moved out. You broke into a stranger's home." That stranger? The mafia godfather who vanished six months ago. And that collar around his neck? It wasn't for a dog. It was recording everything. Now he's at my office door—and he can see me perfectly.
