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“For where thou art, there is the world itself, And where thou art not, desolation”
(Henry VI Part 2 – Act 3, Scene 2)
JJ
"You motherfucker." Sinclair Sterling, my host for the evening—though he doesn’t know it yet— draws himself up to his full height. Anger thrums off of him. "The fuck are you doing in my house?" The muscles of his neck tighten. He draws back his arm, and his fist connects with the face of the man standing opposite him.
The man who’s as tall, as broad, and is dressed in a dark black suit which could be the twin to Sinclair’s camel-colored one. The man who’s as powerful as Sinclair in every way, for he’s the leader of theCosa Nostra. The man who barely flinches as he absorbs the blow, then shakes his head.
A collective gasp runs through the assembled crowd. Michael’s shoulders bunch. Tension leaps off of him. The hair on the back of my neck rises.
"Oh, fuck." I take a step back. Not that I’m a coward, but any moment now I expect the Don to pull out his gun and empty it into Sinclair’s head. Instead, Michael Sovrano raises his hands.
What the—?I’ve never seen the most powerful man of the underground crime scene in Europe make a conciliatory gesture, especially when he was provoked. Sure, Michael is going legit but he’s still the leader of a lethal Mafia clan.Their reach extends to corners that Sinclair’s never could. Sinclair plays on the right side of the law, but you don’t become number one on the Rich List in Europe without cutting more than a few corners.
Of course, since Michael and his brothers have gotten married, the mindset of theCosa Nostrahas changed. From being focused on growing their prowess in the underworld, they have transitioned to moving their businesses into legitimate entities. Something I wholeheartedly support. Turns out, making money by legal means involves jumping through as many hoops and cutting corners as you’d do leading an organized crime syndicate. I should know.
For the past few years, not only have I run the Kane company, the foremost crime organization in the UK, but I’ve also moved many of its dealings to the Kane Corporation, the lawful business I incorporated. A thriving business for which I am the CEO. The position by any other name is the same. You’re the leader, the visionary, the person who sees the big picture. The one who connects the dots, forges alliances, and on occasion, brokers peace. Where I get my cut, of course. Which is why I’m here. Not that either of these men know it yet. All the better. The situation plays in my favor, putting me in a position of strength. I couldn’t have planned it better.
"Get off my property—" Sinclair reaches for his inside pocket.
I step forward. "I wouldn’t do that if I were you."
Sinclair jerks his chin in my direction. "JJ Kane." His frown deepens. "The fuck do you want?"
"I know you didn’t invite me. However, I do think you’ll be happy that I stepped in."
"You with this bastard?" Sinclair nods in Michael’s direction.
"I’m not with either of you, ol’ chap. I’m like Switzerland. Bloody neutral and all that."
Sinclair frowns.
Next to me, Michael glowers.
"Sinclair." The petite woman with pink threaded through her hair standing next to Sterling tugs on his sleeve. "Sin, stop. He’s my sister’s husband."
Sinclair’s shoulders bunch. His features still wear that expression of fury. Then he turns his head in his wife’s direction and his gaze softens. "Summer—" He frowns. "This man… He’s responsible for everything that happened to me and the rest of the Seven."
Of course, he’s referring to the rest of his friends with whom he runs 7A Investments, the leading financial services company on this side of the pond.
Summer’s eyelids flicker. She looks past Sinclair to where Michael’s wife—her sister—stands with her hands over her belly. Summer’s gaze widens. She steps around her husband, who moves with her to block her approach. It’s a stance of extreme protectiveness. Interesting. In the little time I’ve known Sterling as a business associate, I’ve only seen his work face. This is Sterling as a husband. A protective husband. It’s also an angry, pissed-off man who’s trying to come to terms with his past. A past I have details to because… I never do business with a person unless I have investigated him thoroughly.
"Sin, please." Summer tugs on his sleeve. "I haven’t seen my sister in months. Please, I need to go to her now."
Sinclair hesitates, then steps aside. Summer moves at the same time as Michael’s wife, her sister. The two women embrace.
"Karma," Summer breathes. "I missed you so much."
Karma sniffs. "Me, too. I’m so sorry I didn’t stay in touch properly all these months."
"I was worried sick about you. One cryptic message from you that you had a new boyfriend and you were going to Sicily with him, and I don’t see you for months. Months, Karma. How could you do that?" She steps back and searches her sister’s features. "You are okay, though. Aren’t you? You’re safe. Not hurt or anything?"
Next to Karma, Michael shuffles his feet. His arms are loose at his sides, but his fingers are poised in readiness. Opposite him, Sterling’s stance, too, is one of alertness. The two men glare at each other. The air between them thrums with tension.
