I sit in the back of the SUV, sandwiched between the twins, who I now know to be Liam and Mikey. They are so huge, their thighs are pressed tightly against mine as the three of us share the back seat. They are identical twins, but I can already tell them apart by virtue of the small scar below Liam’s left ear and the fact that he is about an inch taller than his brother. I have an eye for detail and I’m a quick study. They are skills that have helped me to survive for so long on my own.

Apart from telling them my name, I’ve said nothing else since we left Nikolai’s house. I have listened though, to every single thing that they have said. It doesn’t take me long to realize I’m in a car with the Ryan brothers – the heads of the New York branch of the Irish Mafia. These guys are ruthless, and they own half of New York, but I’ve never come across them personally before. I suppose the Russians and the Irish don’t gel that well?

Shane is the oldest of the four, and everything about him, from the way that he talks to how he holds himself, tells me he is their leader. Conor drives the car. He is Shane’s second – the closer. Smooth talking and charismatic. The twins appear to be quite a few years younger and, from what I can gather, are largely the muscle.

“You okay there, Jessie?” Liam turns and says in his soft Irish lilt. He has a twinkle in his dark brown eyes and what seems to be a genuine smile on his face. “We’re almost home.”

“I’m good. Thanks,” I say with a nod. In fact, I’m not sure how I feel. I’m incredibly relieved to still be alive. I’m happy that Nikolai Semenov and his most loyal soldiers are all dead. But I was so close to finding him. And now it feels like I’m taking ten steps backwards.

“You’ll like our place,” Mikey says on the other side of me.

I turn my head to him and offer him a faint smile.

The brothers begin to talk amongst themselves again. They are discussing their nightclub and how they plan on dealing with the trouble they’ve been having there for the past few nights. I half listen, keeping an ear out for any snippets of information that might be useful to me, but my mind wanders. What the hell is my next move? It took me almost two years to get close enough to Nikolai that I was allowed into his inner circle – even if it was the seventh circle of hell.

I look at the two oldest Ryan siblings sitting in front of me. Like their brothers either side of me, they wear the finest Italian leather shoes and impeccably tailored suits. They are all tall, dark, and stacked, as well as very easy on the eye. Besides any of that, though, I get a good feeling about them and I have learned to trust my gut. It rarely lets me down.

They are notorious. They do bad things, but that doesn’t always mean that they’re bad men. I imagine there are lots of people who would disagree, but I suppose I have a different morality barometer than most people. The things I have seen and lived through have taught me that sometimes good people do terrible things to get by in this world.

I lean back in the leather seat and close my eyes. The warmth of Liam and Mikey on either side of me is strangely comforting. Their conversation washes over me, and I absorb it all. Perhaps a few weeks or months working for the Ryan brothers, because I will prove my worth to them, will be a good thing. I can lay low and regroup. Gather more intel while I decide what to do next.

Because I am so close. I know he’s out there somewhere.

Waiting.

I can almost feel him.

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