Lord of London Town

“Careful, Cheska,” Ollie said. “You don’t want to join your family on the floor out here.” He held the door, his hands turning white, betraying his ire. “Arthur Adley has no idea where we are. You forget, Freddie knows him. Has been with his family his entire life. He can read Arthur like a book. Adley’s hot-headed. He’s predictable. And if he does find us …” Ollie shrugged. “Then he’ll join his father. It’s about time that entire scumbag family ate dirt. They’re a blight on our city and need to be destroyed.” He pointed at Gene. “And I’m thinking I’ll start with you.”

Ollie slammed the door, and the room plunged into a heavy silence. I heard Ollie barking orders at his men. My head buzzed with everything that had just happened. I held myself high and vowed not to break.

If we got out of this, that could come later. I could succumb to the pain then. Right now, I had to be steel. I had to be strong. Shifting my body, I angled myself so I could feel Gene’s hands. I wrapped my fingers around his and held on tightly.

Freddie might have known Arthur. He might have thought he knew everything about him. But he only knew the Arthur of old.

He didn’t know that Arthur had given me a tracker, didn’t know that he had sent Ronnie and Vera on a mission to find out who this fucked-up “empire” actually belonged to. And more than that, he didn’t know the new Arthur—the Arthur who had me. The man he had become since he had let me into his walled heart.

And Freddie didn’t know the love we shared, the bond that existed between us—infallible, unmoving, vengeful toward those who tried to keep us apart.

Ollie Lawson had no idea what was coming. Because if they thought Arthur was evil before this, that he had untapped darkness in his veins … They had no idea of the monster he would become to get me back.

I stared at the bracelet on my wrist, practically feeling Arthur’s reassuring voice whisper in my ear … Hold on, princess. I’m coming to get you. You’re never leaving me. I’ll never let you go …

So, I leaned against Gene, took a strengthening breath, and waited for my dark king to storm the enemy castle.

Chapter Seventeen

ARTHUR

Charlie joined me outside the dock’s main office. He had been working the past few hours on organising the other gangs Lawson’s syndicate had fucked with. The minute I had called them all and told them who’d been attacking them, sending them the proof Ronnie had found, they were all in. Ready and fucking willing to bring these fuckers down—tonight.

Tonight would be another motherfucking blitzkrieg raining down on London. Ronnie, Vera and the hackers had managed to find us every cell, the addresses and headquarters of every one of those cocksuckers throughout London. From Ollie Lawson down to the piece of shit that loaded the slaves on boats and delivered the “products” to people’s homes.

They were all dying tonight.

Every seasoned gangster in London was prepped and primed to be done with the empire Lawson thought he ran.

“No one goes in until we do. No leaks. Lawson’ll run if he thinks we’re on to him. I’m not risking that,” I said.

“They’ve got their orders,” Charlie said. “They know if anything goes wrong on their end, we won’t get them all.” Charlie exhaled. “Every fucker we know is ready for these bastards to die.”

I flicked my finished cig onto the ground as Eric whistled and all our soldiers gathered around us. Betsy, Ronnie and Vera came out of the office behind me. Dressed in black, guns and knives at the ready. Vinnie stood beside Eric. He was as still as night. He was about to face off with the organisation who had killed Pearl. Who had taken my sister from his arms, his life. He was ready to watch them die. Ready to send them all to fucking hell. We all were.

I turned to Vera. “You get the bobbies sorted?” We had more than enough moles in the police to build a fucking mountain. Vera had put the word out that something big was going down tonight. And if they heard anything untoward, they were to turn their little piggy noses away. They’d been told that our taking the arseholes out would cut trafficking in the city by at least thirty percent, and if that sounded appealing to them, then they’d turn a blind eye tonight when the London underworld went up in fucking flames.

That, and there would be a distraction planted in central London, smack bang in the middle of tourist central. The Irish had told me they’d sort that. Which meant the night was ready for our version of lightning war.

Tonight, the Lawson gang would burn, just like they’d burned my mum and sister. Like they would soon burn in hell.