I rest my elbows on the roof of the SUV as he circles around to the passenger side, feeling emotionally bankrupt. “Go home to Issa, Raven. This isn’t your fight.”
“It became my fight when Tommaso Zaccaria screwed with my life, too. I just didn’t know my enemy’s face until recently.”
I groan inwardly. I know where this conversation is headed. I just never expected it to happen a hundred metres from Ada’s front door with the memory of her pussy wrapped around my cock still lucid in my mind.
“I don’t want your guilt,” he says, catching sight of my face. “You kept everything from me because you didn’t have a choice. I dealt with the ramifications of that when you were inside, and it’s the reason I was standing outside the gates on your release day and not at your funeral. I know what you did for me when we were kids. I know the sacrifices you made.” He glances back at the looming silhouette of Ada’s house. “We’re not brothers by blood, but we’re brothers in all the other ways it counts.”
There’s a long pause.
“What was the favour?”
“What favour?”
“The one that bought me an hour with Ada.”
“Ah, that…” A wicked look crosses his face before he’s neatly deflecting the subject. “Grayson’s not messing around, Frankie. Don’t test his patience, no matter how much it stings. Keep Ada as safe as you can from a distance. His own wife was trafficked by associates of the men who are now cutting deals with the Red Compass.”
I was right. It is personal. “What happened to her?”
“He got her out. Blew a hole in Amsterdam the size of a small crater in doing so. Santiago has his reasons, too. These people don’t mess about, Frankie.”
“I see. So, you showing up here is just another friendly warning to me to be a good fucking boy?” I frown as he goes to open the door. “Don’t you have your own car?”
“I have several.”
“Then I suggest you get in one of them.”
“Nah, they’re all parked in the garage behind us.” His smirk widens. “I just bought this place from a rock star who hasn’t hit the charts since The Stones were relevant. Feel free to use it to stake out library girl, if you keep within the property’s boundaries. And in answer to your question, my flight home isn’t until tomorrow.” With this, he swings into the passenger seat, his deep voice filtering out to me. “I hear you staged a hostile takeover for a Park Lane casino? Along with the sharp rise of dead bodies in the London area and a heart in chains, what else is new with you?”
I think of Viper and Bambi as I climb in after him.
“Buckle up, Raven, and I’ll introduce you to a snake and a thief.”
I drive straight to Encore, knowing that’s where my business partner will be. When he’s not hunting down and torturing paedophiles, dealing coke, or plotting which parts of O’Sullivan and Semenov he’ll be carving off first, Viper is drinking and gambling like they’re Olympic sports and self-destruction is the only gold. It makes our new establishment perfect for the last two entries on his list of addictions.
As we park up and make our way towards the entrance, I pull out my phone and fire off a couple of messages to Silas to make sure he calls me the minute Semenov shows up again. Once done, I catch Aiden side-eyeing me with a frown.
“What?”
“Usually, you would have smoked ten cigarettes by now, and I would have bitched about all of them.”
“Didn’t want one.”
“Bullshit. You were born smoking. You set fire to your mother’s pussy on the way out.”
“Maybe I’m leaving my hands free for other things these days, like breaking your jaw for asking too many questions.” To prove the point, I take a skinny matchstick out of my back pocket and slide it in between my teeth.
“Well at least you’ll have a light for when you fall off the wagon,” he observes dryly.
Stepping onto Encore’s main floor, he whistles in appreciation at the refurbished casino. “I like it. I’m not sure your dealer’s old enough to shark the cards, though.” He jerks his head to where Bambi’s sat at her favourite roulette table, head bent over her laptop again.
“That’s Viper’s kid.”
“Who’s Viper?”
“Me,” says a voice behind us. “You must be the Crimson King of Monaco.”
Aiden laughs. “I prefer King Midas, but it didn’t work out so well for him. Besides, red is more relatable to our line of work.” He holds out his hand. “Aiden Knight. Danny Razor, I presume?”
“Was. I killed that name sometime in the last decade.” He looks him up and down, taking in his black Brioni and Patek Philippe. “Must be pricey being a grown-up.”
I can tell Viper likes him, though. Most people like Raven until he’s pointing a gun at their head. He’s not shy about pulling the trigger, either.
“You tell me. You’re the one with the kid already. What’s your baby snake called?”
“Bambi. My niece’s daughter. Mother checked out a couple of years ago.”
I yank the matchstick from my teeth. “I thought you said she was your cousin’s kid?”
Something flickers behind Viper’s eyes. It’s the movement of a spider’s web when an insect gets trapped in its web. “Drink?” He directs this more at Aiden than at me.
“Depends on what you’re offering. Last time I was in London, I was still drinking Guinness. My taste has improved immeasurably since then.”
“So has your taste in women,” I mutter.
Leaving them chatting by the bar, I wander over to say hi to Bambi who slams her laptop lid down as I approach, narrowing her eyes at me and chewing her bubble gum defiantly. Her pink hair looks like fairground candy floss tonight. She must have dyed it again.
Lifting my eyebrows, I hold up the matchstick in my hand. “Trying.”
Blushing slightly, she opens up her laptop again and spins it around to show me. “Trying, too.”
It’s a website for some BBC learning channel, and she’s in the middle of a maths tutorial about trigonometry.
Replacing the matchstick in my mouth, ignoring the clenched fist inside my chest, I take a seat opposite her. “Does it make sense?”
She glares at me for daring to ask her that, and then her shoulders slump, and she’s shaking her head in defeat.
“Want me to talk to Viper about getting you a tutor?”
She glances over at the bar and considers this for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Think he’d go for it?”
“He will, if I’m the one who’s asking.”
“Did you see dance lady earlier?”
What the fuck? “Are you psychic now?”
“I installed a tracking device on your iPhone,” she admits, looking guilty. “I checked it after you left the house. The icon placed you in the same town as before, so I figured—”
“Don’t.” My tone is ice-cold as I reach into my pocket and toss my iPhone onto the red felt. “Delete it right now.”
“Fine.” Glaring at me again, she picks it up, cracks my password instantly and starts tip tapping away on the screen.