Page 34 of Vicious Addictions

“Always.” I flash my holstered 9mm.

“Good. Get in,” he commands, his voice steady as he moves with quiet confidence to the driver’s seat of his car, utterly indifferent to the downpour drenching his shoulders.

I settle into the seat next to him, and the second my seatbelt clicks, Felix pulls us into the chaos of London traffic. I watch in silence as he makes call after call, instructing his men to keep their eyes and ears open.

It’s Thursday night, and the city pulses with life. There are bound to be plenty of people ready to slip up and make some uncalculated mistakes tonight, and if we’re lucky, those slip-ups might lead us to the culprit responsible for these unexpected deaths.

The hours stretch on, taking us from back-alley clubs to underground bars, shaking down anyone stupid enough to deal on Crane’s turf.

But after five hours of grueling search, we’re no closer to knowing who is behind tainting Crane’s product as we were when we first started.

For the past three months, I’ve been shadowing Felix Ibrahim, observing his every move as he teaches me how best to navigate the complexities of his work and all the pressures that come with it. And throughout that time, I can say that Crane’s underboss reminds me a lot of my father—aloof and unyielding.

Felix rarely displays frustration, and yet tonight, I can sense it simmering beneath the surface. I can see it in the clench of his jaw, in the way his grip tightens on the wheel.

He’s losing his cool.

And if he is anything like my father, that’s not a good thing.

“What?” he suddenly cuts the silence between us, his voice cold and deadly.

“Nothing,” I reply just as arctic, keeping my sights steady on the road ahead.

“There’s obviously something on your mind. Stop wasting my time and say it already.”

“Fine,” I relent. “I think we’re going about this the wrong way.”

“Do you, now?” He scoffs.

“I do,” I reply, meeting his stern gaze without a flinch. “Rather than wasting time trying to figure out who’s dealing on Crane’s turf, we should concentrate on identifying who in our own ranks has the audacity—or better yet, the stupidity—to try and pull a fast one on Crane himself.”

“I don’t follow.”

“The product that’s being cut is Crane’s, correct? Then, it’s safe to assume that whoever is cutting it must be working for Crane, too. Even if they are colluding with a third party, the stink is coming from inside the house. We should be looking inward, not outward.”

I can tell Felix is chewing on my words, but when his phone rings, he hits the hands-free without hesitation.

“Talk,” he orders, only to scowl when a taunting chuckle filters through the speakers.

“Well, hello to you too, Felix.”

Remus Crane.

I don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking.

“What do you want, Remus?” Felix exhales sharply.

“I think the better question is—what doyouwant?”

Felix’s scowl deepens at the whimsical tone in Remus’ voice.

There’s no love lost between him and the Crane twins, and everyone knows it.

Though neither has openly shared the reason for their animosity, I have my suspicions. I can’t help but wonder if it’s the same reason it took me so long to warm up to Felix.

And that all comes down to Mina Crane.

If Felix really is the man her father envisions marrying her off to, then I can understand why the twins hate him on mere principle alone.

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