Page 127 of Intense
“I don’t look for fights. That’s more my brother’s game. I step in when I have to. I prefer my methods… quieter.”
Theo glances at the pub chaos with something close to fondness, that unmistakable glint of violence sparking in his eyes.
“Can’t beat a pub brawl though,” he says, running a hand through his jet-black hair.
“It’s been a while,” I admit.
Back in my teens, we used to get into fights in my father’s pubs in Ireland every weekend.
He chuckles. We both know the itch never really goes away.
“Shall we get down to business? We have to get back for a family event,” I say.
“Eager.”
I shrug. I don’t like to waste time.
“Well, as Charles is now six feet under, we can, or you can, go after Arthur.”
I tense slightly. “When you say ‘go after,’ you mean…?”
I tilt my head in question. “You aren’t planning on capturing him?” The deal was the kill. Not a scavenger hunt through London.
“He’s underground. For now. We’re working through his men. Someone’ll talk.”
“Always was a fucking pussy. Running from a fight.” My voice drops low.
Theo smirks, eyes scanning the room again.
“Wherever he’s hiding, he’ll have his best men on him. We track him down, then I’ll bring my men. And we’ve been gifted a few from Mikhail Volkov. And Frankie Falcone.”
His words hang. That name.
A grin creeps across Theo’s face.
“Oh, it’ll be good to see Frankie again.”
“You know him well?” I ask.
“Very. Back when he was out to kill his own blood, I helped him out here. So, yeah. He owes me one.”
My jaw ticks. That wasn’t in the file.
“Helped him out?”
“Hid a girl for him. He finally grew a conscience after taking her. She was pregnant, full of fire. It was a fucking mess. Let her go in the end. He’s not been as ruthless since.”
“That his wife? Zara?”
Theo laughs, shaking his head.
“Ain’t no one kidnapping Zara. Let alone dragging her to another country. She’d have slit my throat in my sleep.”
I smirk. I like the sound of her already.
“No. Her name was Maddie. I think she’s married to one of his men now.”
The dots connect in my head. “Grayson? The boxer?”
