Chapter 23
23
Finn walked down the stairs behind Elise, Ronan a few steps in front of her. The music that had been nothing but a vibration at the top of the steps grew louder as they approached the bottom of the narrow never-ending staircase.
Ronan pushed through a door and the music assaulted Finn’s ears, a techno dance beat that started in his ears and echoed through his chest.
They stepped into what looked like an underground warehouse, concrete floors stretching in every direction, packed with teeming masses writhing to the music as multicolored lights swung over their bodies. The ceilings were so far overhead Finn couldn’t even see them. Bars ran the length of both sides of the cavernous space, scantily clad women and men wearing shirts half-unbuttoned under tailored blazers standing in line to get drinks.
Finn’s gaze was drawn to the massive screens that seemed to be suspended in midair, obviously anchored to the invisible ceiling. Scarface played on one of the screens, the scene with Pacino and the mountain of coke. On another, Daniel Day Lewis spoke to Leonardo DiCaprio in Gangs of New York. A third one displayed Oscar Isaac in a camelhair coat, standing across the river from New York City, looking like he owned the place.
Elise looked up at him with a smile. He shrugged. Nothing to do but follow Ronan through the crowd.
He took Elise’s hand and watched the crowd part like the red sea around his oldest brother. It had always been that way for Ronan, ever since they were kids. People had sensed something in him that made them clear a path. When Finn had been young, he’d thought it had to do with Ronan’s size, but lately, he’d started wondering if it was instinct, if all those people had sensed even then that his brother was dangerous.
Whatever it was, Finn had never envied it. He didn’t want people to be scared of him, didn’t even really want people to notice him. He liked to stay in the shadows.
Ronan was the shadow.
He didn’t know where they were headed until they passed the end of the bar at one side of the warehouse and he spotted the metal stairs leading to a second floor, suspended halfway between the dance floor and the ceiling Finn could now make out far overhead.
The club lights weren’t as bright back here, the music not as loud.
He and Elise followed Ronan up the stairs. He wasn’t worried about Elise here, knew Ronan wouldn’t have allowed her to come if she might be in danger. It was just a nightclub, although even Finn knew the man they were going to see was anything but just a man.
They stopped at the top of the stairs where two large men spoke into the mics attached to their suit jackets, then searched Ronan, Finn, and even Elise for weapons.
Finn hadn’t liked that part, the men’s hands roaming over Elise’s body. He’d been ready to step in if it got too personal, if Elise gave any indication she was uncomfortable, but her face remained stony.
When they were cleared one of the men led them down a dark hall, past several doors on either side. Finn exhaled with relief. The music was nothing but a thump here.
The security guard — it felt like a mistake to think of him as just a bouncer — knocked on the door, then opened it so they could enter.
Finn followed Ronan and Elise into the large room with simple but upscale decor, the club’s industrial theme continuing with a wall of brick, concrete floors, and exposed pipes in the ceiling.
The door clicked shut behind them as the guard left.
Finn’s attention was immediately focused on the giant man rising from behind an equally giant desk. He was taller than Ronan, and bigger too, a juggernaut in a suit with a scar that ran down the left side of his face, a menacing addition the man didn’t need. His eyes were dark and utterly devoid of emotion.
None of those things were what made Finn want to back up against his brother to guard against the man standing in front of them. That instinct was thanks to the energy that surrounded the other man.
Or rather, the energy that didn’t.
Finn was usually pretty good at getting a read on people, but the man looking at them with dead eyes felt like a black hole of nothing.
Ronan extended his hand. “Black. Thanks for meeting with us.”
“You have five minutes,” the man said.
Ronan gestured to Finn and Elise. “This is my brother Finn, and my wife’s sister, Elise.” Ronan looked at Finn. “This is Farrell Black.”
Farrell’s dead-eyed gaze crawled over them, a mental parasite looking for sustenance.
Finn nodded. He had no desire to touch the man. “Nice to meet you.”
“Sit.” It was a command, and Finn found himself sitting in one of the chairs opposite Farrell Black’s desk.
Elise took the other one. Ronan, in true big-dick-energy form, remained standing.
Farrell didn’t seem to care. He lowered himself to a chair that was so big it looked like a throne. “What can I do for you?”
“We need a meeting,” Ronan said. “With Nico.”
Ronan studied him. "I'm sure you know where to find him.”
“We were already in London, and we don’t have time to go through the proper channels. I was hoping you could expedite matters,” Ronan said.
Farrell didn’t speak for so long Finn almost thought he’d gone into a trance.
“What is this regarding?” Farrell finally asked.
“We have… business with someone under the Syndicate’s protection," Ronan said. “We’d like to request a dispensation.”
“Is this individual here in London?”
Finn understood the root of the question because Ronan had explained it to him: Farrell Black was an equal partner in the criminal organization referred to as the Syndicate, but he also ran the UK territory.
MIS had worked with the Syndicate on a few occasions in the past, occasions when their interests had intersected, according to Ronan.
“No,” Ronan said. “In Scotland. And of course, we’re more than happy to take the business up with you if you prefer.”
Finn held his breath. It would be faster if Farrell Black approved their request, but he didn’t expect it to happen. Ronan had explained that the Syndicate had four managing partners, but Nico Vitale was its unofficial leader. Everyone deferred to him on the big decisions, and asking for permission to kill someone with protection — protection they’d paid for with blood or money — was a very big decision.
Besides, from what Ronan said, Farrell didn’t like dealing with what Ronan called “bullshit.” And Finn was guessing that to the man staring at them like a lion staring at a gazelle, trying to decide whether he was hungry, a rich fuck sitting in a castle in Scotland was the very definition of bullshit.
A ghost of a smirk passed over Farrell’s lips. “You should see Nico.”
“Can you arrange a meeting?” Ronan asked.
Farrell studied him for what felt like forever, silence stretching taut in the space between the two men.
He stood. “Someone will get back to you within twenty-four hours.”
“Thank you,” Ronan said.
Finn and Elise stood and followed Ronan to the door.
“What did he do?” Black asked behind them.
Ronan turned. “He murdered a man and a woman in front of their child.”
Farrell’s eyes hardened into chips of black ice. “Good luck.”
They stepped into the hall and started for the stairs.