Page 4 of Knights Game

“No, Luca, they will have your head,” Levi says, and Roman swears under his breath.

Scapegoat. Just like I said.

“They take my head; we go to war. Blood pays with blood cousin, or have you forgotten that?”

“But that’s the thing, Luca. You may notbeblood,” he snarls, and I lean back and hiss out a breath, trying to calm my fury. “You could be the pathetic result of your mother being unable to keep her legs closed.”

“You piece of shit—”

“Enough,” John booms down the receiver. “Luca, you’re told what you need to know. On this occasion, the fewer people who knew, the better.”

“Liverpool is my operation. I absolutely should have known. He was my man.”

“I don’t think that’s something you should be proud of.” Levi laughs.

“Dickhead,” Roman mutters, and I can’t resist a grin. He really does hate Levi as much as I do.

“We’ll be in touch,” my uncle says, and the line goes dead.

I lean back in my chair as Roman waits silently, sensing my annoyance. Then I propel myself forward, grabbing the crystal whiskey glass and smash it against the wall on a stream of profanities. The remainder of the liquid drips down the dark walls.

“Motherfuckers.” I shove back my chair, the momentum knocking it over.

“They’re shutting you out.” Roman watches as I pace the office like a wild animal. I want to punch something really fucking hard.

I circle round to Steven’s body, lift my foot, and slam it down onto the bastard’s face. Blow after blow, I stomp on his head. Cracking and squelching fill the silence. Cursing my cousin, cursing my uncle, cursing the motherfucking Covenant and their traditions and archaic thinking.

Cursing my mother.

Cursing them all to hell.

By the time I’ve finished, Steven is unrecognisable, his brain matter all over the floor. I bend over and take a deep, heaving breath before standing back up to face Roman.

“Feel better?” he asks dryly.

I look blankly to Steven, with absolutely zero remorse, except maybe for the ruined rug. No amount of stain removal is goingto get rid of that shit. Rolling my shoulders, I pick up my fallen desk chair and sit back down.

“But the question is why?” I ask. “Do you think the Marku’s are working with the government?”

“No,” Roman answers quickly. “Maybe a sly deal with a small corrupt group of the National Crime Agency to turn a blind eye, but wider than that, not a chance. The government wants the Albanians out as much as we do.”

I pause and look at him, standing in front of my desk in his suit, arms folded, eyes calculating.

“You need to watch your back, friend.”

“That’s why you’re here.” I smirk, but then sigh, rubbing at my temples. “Levi’s threatened.”

“He thinks you want his throne.”

“He’s an idiot. Our next move needs to be cautious.”

He nods.

I will be at the top. Not them. The nameKnightwill send ripples of fear through the underworld of London.

“Uh-oh.” Roman smirks.

“What?” I ask, grabbing my phone to tap out a quick message to my driver.

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