Mario doesn’t. A spew of Italian insults comes flying out, which earns him a brutal punch in the jaw from Grayson.
“O’Sullivan panicked when he found out that Semenov was dead.” He shakes his hand out before delivering another. “He instructed Mario to contact the Brigăzi and move the delivery forward by three days before they figured out his control over the city was fucked. He offered him a cut of Semenov’s percentage for his trouble. It’s happening tonight.”
“How did you get the Brigăzi to agree to it, Mario?”
“Fuck you, Lastra, and fuck your lame bitch whore!”
He shuts up quickly when I drive the heel of my boot into his face and break his nose.
“Mario told them O’Sullivan had a ‘Gold’,” says Grayson. “A gift for them to take back to Eastern Europe. In trafficking terms, it means an underage girl who’s untouched. We’ve heard about a new ring in Bucharest that caters for that kind of shit. We assumed he’d taken a girl off the streets here, but if he has your daughter…”
Grayson doesn’t need to spell out the rest.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Ada starts shaking, so I pull her in close again, murmuring assurances that I’ll get our daughter back, even if I need to kill half of London to do so.
“When and where?” There’s no trace of humour in Viper’s voice anymore.
“There’s a new location for the exchange. It’s a cargo warehouse in the Port of Dover. The trucks are scheduled to arrive at midnight, but we’ll be tracking them from Calais. We have men on the ferry, and we have Border Agents on both sides of the Channel.”
“Our deal still stands, Lastra,” says Santiago, as Grayson hands him a knife. “Even after I said, ‘no waves’ and you brought me a fucking tsunami. I see you fighting for your family the same way I fight for mine, and that’s a battle that spills loyalty into every part of your life.” He spins the knife through his fingers and offers me the handle. “I believe the Italian was part of our agreement. We have no further use for him. There will be no more contact with the Brigăzi until after the girls arrive in the cargo warehouse, which is where we’ll be waiting.”
With a nod, I accept our kind of handshake, taking the knife and sealing the deal. After tonight, three new flags will be flying over London’s underground.
I turn to ask Viper to escort Ada to one of the vehicles to wait for me there, but one look at her face and I know she’s not going anywhere. She sits with me in all things now, including revenge however bloody and protracted, and I love her all the more for it.
“There’s only room for one capo in London, Mario.” Taking my time, I walk a slow circle around him, assessing which part of his body to dismember first.
I settle on his hands.
The ones that touched what’s mine.
And then I set to work.
CHAPTER 40
FRANKIE
The White Cliffs of Dover are a jagged wall of silver tonight, rising high into the sky behind me as I stand, dockside, waiting for confirmation that the trucks have unloaded from the ferry.
In the past, the cliffs have been a symbol of unbreachable defence, but for this war, for my war, they signify the beginning of the end. This is where the Red Compass will fall, making way for a new rise of power—similar to the one my father envisaged—with alliances strong enough to make us all a fuck ton of money with minimal bloodshed.
This is where my new family reunites, and we all start to move forward.
In the meantime, there’s a bitter chill coming off the English Channel, and I find myself craving a cigarette for warmth. Then, I think about Bambi, and I slide a matchstick into the corner of my mouth instead. It feels comfortable there, in much the same way I’ve felt comfortable around her these past couple of weeks, where the push and pull between us has been more of a budding connection than a tussle for control.
I grit my jaw to keep my focus.
I refuse to let this night be the end of that, too.
Viper’s standing next to me, gazing out at a ship on the horizon that’s flashing white against a black canvas. He’s been drinking more and speaking less again. Eventually, the past catches up with us all, and right now his demons won’t shut up. It’s his ‘fuck it or fight it’ moment, but I’ll be there for him whatever happens. He’s a brother to me now, the same as Aiden.
“We take O’Sullivan down together. Like we agreed.”
“Together,” he mutters.
“To closure.”
He glances back at the ship sinking low on the horizon again. “Yeah, to something like that.”
“It’s done.” Grayson walks back over to us after speaking to one of the port workers. “The drivers have bribed their way out of the inland border facility. Their trucks are due to arrive at the warehouse in the next five minutes.”
“Then it’s time to go.” Climbing back into the SUV, I start the engine, and we drive the two miles to the unmarked isolated warehouse on the edge of the outer harbour. Parking up, I watch Santiago’s men secure the area as Grayson makes a call to confirm O’Sullivan is inside.
“We have a lock on everyone, including the girl.” Hanging up, his gaze cuts an icy path through the darkness at me. “Ada’s in the car with Santiago. He’ll bring her in, once the warehouse is secure.”
“Should I be jealous?” I drawl, slamming a fresh clip into my gun.
“That man only has eyes for one woman, Lastra, and it’s not yours.”
By the time we reach the side entrance, the five lookouts and all the security cameras are dead. Fifty of us follow a path into the dark warehouse where we fan out against both walls.
Hearing angry voices, I pause next to a row of metal containers as the argument heats up.
“What do you mean this is the ‘one and only’ shipment, you Brigăzi fuck?” rages O’Sullivan. “We had an agreement. Every month for five years.”
“I do not like the way you and Mario do business,” snaps a voice, as I prowl forward to take a closer look. I’m at the back of the warehouse. I can see the two trucks with their doors still locked, plus half a dozen other vehicles, and twenty-armed men a-piece.
“Where is he?” The Brigăzi captain demands. “Where is Semenov?”
“I’m the one who cuts the deals now, not him. Not Mario. Do you want the ‘Gold’, or not? There are plenty more where she came from.”
“Let me see her, and I will consider it.”
O’Sullivan reaches into his car and yanks Bambi out by her wrist, flinging her onto the ground, her sharp cry clawing at my self-control. Her pink hair is a mess, her cheeks red and swollen. Her favourite Taylor Swift T-shirt is ripped at the collar and her arms are dirty and bruised…
Fuck.
Her exposed fragility reminds me so much of Ada’s the first time we met.
“Say the word, Lastra,” murmurs Grayson. “We can take everyone down in thirty seconds, but this is your show.”
As O’Sullivan and the Brigăzi captain continue to argue, Bambi glances in our direction, then freezes. There’s so much relief in those green eyes. So much trust that I’m here to fix everything.