Page 37 of Knights Game

I snort. “Hardly. Terrance is already prepping Ricardo, he isn’t interested in letting Isabella take over.”

“But what makes you think Isabella will accept that? There’s a turf war coming, friend. The Albanians are going to be the least of your worries.”

I stand on the balcony and look down onto the dance floor. Juju’s is packed tonight, and the methodical beat of the drums is in sync with my heart, calming my raging blood.

What a cluster fuck.

Black’s behind me, girls wrapped all over him, with the clear instructions to make sure he has a good time. So, I’m expecting one of them to be on their knees, with his cock in her mouth any moment.

If what he’s saying about John and Levi is true, maybe my dear uncle and cousin were responsible for the hit on me after all.

Regardless, for now my plan is simple: get Black pissed and buried in pussy. I need to know how much cash will get the warehouses at the docks up to scratch, and if what Black says is true, then I want to know how close the Covenant is to imploding and whether they even have what it takes to divert the Albanians’ attention. As if they don’t, I need to pivot.

I can’t be one hundred percent sure that he doesn’t have an ulterior motive to dangle the Thames property as a carrot. If he bought the property a year ago, he’s already been thinking ahead.

But why that port?

The London Docks is made up of multiple terminals, what are the chances of him choosing the exact place I’ve infiltrated and taken over?

Most likely for the same reason as I have, the Russians.

Fuck, my head hurts.

“She’s here.” Roman appears next to me, passing me a new whiskey. “Gary’s pulled her from the queue, she’s with her roommate, and has since hooked up with two guys.”

“Is that so…” I try not to show my hand, but I’m already scanning the bodies below, searching her out.

A flash of blonde draws my attention and there, standing on my dance floor with a man wrapped around her body, is Layla.

And I see fucking red.

“Luca,” Roman warns.

I push off the railing and storm through the VIP section.

Roman overtakes me and steps ahead, blocking my path. “What are you doing, Luca? You can’t bring her into this world. People like Layla don’t belong.”

“She’s not Saskia, Rome, and I’m not you.” I’m pinned against the wall before I’ve realised he’s moved, his forearm across my throat, holding me in place and digging into my windpipe. I don’t retaliate, I stay stock-still allowing him to throw his little temper tantrum.

“You don’t say her fucking name,” he seethes.

“This isn’t the same situation, and you know it.”

“You’re treading a dangerous path here, brother, and you know it.” He pushes his forearm into me then lets me go, and I fall forward, rubbing at my neck, before straightening my shirt.

Then it’s my turn, my knife is out my pocket and pressing against his carotid artery. I let the knife sink in and draw blood. “One slice, you’ve seen me do it a thousand times.”

“Do it then,” he says, goading me.

“Don’t tempt me.” I lick my lips and then pull back, our eyes locked, chests heaving.

He brings his index finger up and wipes the wound and sucks the blood from his finger. “Bennett’s seen you follow her,” he says through narrowed eyes.

I swallow and grit my teeth. “I told you to pull back.”

“And I ignored you because I know this girl is under your skin. You need your head in the game for what comes next, not on some pussy. I watched you all day checking your phone like a fucking lovesick puppy, what is it about her? What is it you’re not telling me?”

“Tread carefully, Roman.”

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