Chapter 7
Jude
Twenty-one years old
London hums with energy and vibrance by day, but when dusk begins to blanket the city, it transforms into a realm of shadows and secrets. Every alley whispers forgotten histories and every dark corner teases with the allure of the unknown. In the high-end parts of the city, you’ll find culture, sophistication, and immense wealth on full display. But venture deeper into its underbelly, and London becomes a different kind of beast.
For the past two years, I’ve breathed its air, walked its streets, and sunk into its shadows. I’ve collected debts in clubs, organized underground fights, and seen men bet on everything from dice to lives.
Crane has fulfilled his promise to teach me what it means to be a made man and then some, when he placed me under the guidance of his underboss, Felix. I’ve learned more in these last six months than in all the years I lived under my parents’ roof back home.
Felix is a chameleon in every sense of the word. He can blend in anywhere, adapt to any situation, and always come out on top. His reflexes are sharp and catlike, while his mind is a kaleidoscope of calculated thought and insight, allowing him to effortlessly shift perspectives and navigate any complex situation he finds himself in.
But it’s the way he speaks, the quiet control in his voice, that reminds me so much of my own father—a trait I always secretly envied. Like my father, when Felix enters a room, people listen. And lately, he’s been teaching me how to command that same attention.
Tonight, I walk beside him in my long black coat, looking like an extra straight out of an episode of Peaky Blinders, all because Felix grew tired of me tagging along in nothing but jeans and a leather jacket.
“If you want to be made , then you have to look the part,” he told me once after forcing me into his tailor’s shop for my first suit fitting. “Respect comes in many forms. But to demand it right from the get-go, you have to look like a man who fucking deserves it. No made man worth his salt is going to take you seriously in a fucking t-shirt and trainers, Romano.”
I took the advice to heart and never looked back.
Once we step into a bar, Felix heads straight for the back.
“I won’t be long,” he says over his shoulder. “Grab a seat, Romano.”
The moment I slide onto a barstool, the bartender recognizes me and sets a beer in front of me. Not long ago, I would’ve had to flash an ID just to buy a drink back home. Here, I’ve been old enough for the hard stuff for years.
“Look who we have here.”
A heavy slap lands on my left shoulder, followed by another on my right.
“If it isn’t the Chicago prince himself.”
I don’t need to turn around to know who is standing behind me.
“Remus. Romulus,” I greet in displeasure. “I see they let any riff-raff in this place.”
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.” Rolo grins, sliding onto the stool beside me. “So… what brings you here?”
“Business,” I reply vaguely before taking a swig of my beer.
“Is that right?” Remus chimes in with that taunting sparkle in his eye. “And here I thought you were a stickler for the rules. I didn’t expect you to be the type of guy who takes a beer break during working hours.” He smirks, taking the other seat next to me. “Mind if we join you then?”
“Do I have a choice?” I grumble, tracing my finger up and down the condensation on the bottle.
“No, you don’t.” Remus grins ominously from ear to ear.
The Crane twins love to stir up shit with everyone.
I’m no exception.
That’s just who they are.
If not for their blond hair, I’d swear I was dealing with my own kid brothers sometimes. But while Lucky and Enzo are all about harmless mischief, the Crane twins have required a taste for something darker. If their little games don’t end in bloodshed, then it’s been a dull night for them.
“Isn’t it well past your bedtime?” I ask, growing tired of Remus eyeing me head to toe.
“Fuck you. We’re not the ones who have to go to school in the morning.” Rolo laughs, ordering two gin and tonics.
“Ah, I see. So getting a degree is funny to you, is it?” I retort instead of telling the idiot that school is out for the summer.
“Who needs a diploma when we’ve got these?” Rolo opens his coat to flash his holstered gun.
“Right. Why use words when bullets work just fine?” I mutter sarcastically, taking another sip of my beer.
“Exactly,” Remus piles on with an intimidating tone.
My jaw ticks at how they slowly start to sandwich me between them.
“Though I am curious,” Remus all but whispers. “Why would someone even want a degree if they’re supposed to take over as Capo dei Capi of the Outfit? Maybe you can do my brother and me the wee favor of enlightening us.”
“I don’t do favors. I do business. Big difference.”
“Oh, I’m sure we could persuade you to tell us the truth if we wanted to. Though I doubt it would take much effort on our part,” Remus threatens by pulling out his knife and placing it on the bar not so discreetly.
“What’s a little blood between friends?” I smile widely with a grin just as menacing as his.
“Is that an invitation?” Rolo interjects, his blue eyes smiling back at me, far too eager for me to put my money where my mouth is.
“Do you want it to be one?” I quip back.
Rolo doesn’t think twice and swiftly grabs his brother’s knife from the bar.
“It’s been one hell of a boring night so far,” Rolo explains, tapping the blunt part of the blade against his skull, looking absolutely giddy with the prospect of cutting me open. “I’m game if you are.”
“I don’t need a knife. I’ll gut you with my bare teeth if I have to,” I say, snapping my teeth together to emphasize my point.
“Stop being an arse and put the fucking knife away, Rolo,” Remus interrupts, his annoyance clear with the realization that his little intimidation tactic didn’t work on me.
“Maybe next time.” I wink before going back to my beer.
Remus has had a hard-on for me since the day I showed up at his uncle’s door, especially because he can’t wrap his head around why the Outfit’s heir felt the need to come all this way to the UK to learn the trade instead of staying back in Chicago.
Thankfully, neither Victor nor Mina ever told the twins the real reason I left home, and being left in the dark is what’s eating at Remus the most.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought I was a spy or some shit like that.
Let him believe what he wants.
It’s better than him finding out that my own father doesn’t believe I have what it takes to lead his empire.
Lately, these have been the troubling thoughts rummaging in my head.
Maybe the true reason why my father refused to teach me was because he thought I was too soft and used my mother’s reluctance of me taking the omertà as an excuse to deny me my birthright.
My thoughts are still on my father when Felix reappears from the back room, his face tight with irritation.
“What’s up?” I ask, standing up.
“We have a problem,” he grumbles before looking at the bar counter, grabbing one of the twins’ drinks and downing it in one gulp.
“What kind of problem?”
“The kind the boss needs to know about.”
“That’s going to be tricky.” Remus scoffs. “Uncle Victor drove back to Kent early to help prepare for Mina’s birthday this weekend.”
“Then I guess that’s where we’re going,” Felix rebukes, giving Remus a dirty look before heading toward the door.
I throw fifty quid onto the counter and quickly follow Felix out the door.
To my bitter chagrin, the twins invite themselves to come along with us.
“I know someone who’s going to be thrilled with this little impromptu visit.” Rolo snickers to his twin.
I glance over my shoulder with a frown and ask him, “Who are you talking about?”
“All that schooling for what? Nothing. You really aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, are you, Yank?” Rolo shakes his head in contempt.
“Oh, I don’t know, Rolo,” Remus counters. “I think he might be smarter than we give him credit for.”
Instead of hurting my brain trying to figure out Remus’ riddles, I give him the finger and turn my attention back to Felix. Whatever has him so riled up must be important. Felix wouldn’t confront Victor at his family estate if it weren’t.
By the time we arrive in Kent, it’s well past midnight, but thankfully, the boss is still awake, playing chess with Mina in the library.
Mina’s gray eyes light up as we walk in, but they quickly dim when she senses the tension we bring.
“This can’t be good,” she mutters before moving her chess piece on the board, and from what I can see, just two moves away from calling checkmate on her father.
“I hate to interrupt you at home, Boss, but it is imperative that we discuss… business ,” Felix explains vaguely before setting his sights on the boss’s daughter. “Mina,” Felix greets, his voice noticeably smoother. “You look lovely this evening.”
“Thank you, Felix. How lovely to see you again.” Her smile is small, but I catch the faint pink dusting her cheeks.
Was Rolo talking about Felix earlier back at the bar?
Is she actually happy to see him?
I’m not sure why, but the thought of Mina possibly being genuinely happy to see Felix catches me off guard. But when her gaze shifts from him to me, something in her gray eyes softens, making the small knot in my chest loosen.
Crane sets his chess piece down before standing up from his seat.
“I’ll talk with the boys, and then we’ll finish the game, sweet pea.”
“That’s okay, Daddy. Looks like you’ll be busy for a while.”
“We can keep you company, cousin,” Remus offers with an endearing smile—a sharp contrast to the manipulative bastard I know him to be.
“Yeah. I mean, how difficult could chess even be?” Rolo jokes before plopping his ass on the seat in front of her.
Unlike her cousins, I don’t have the option to sit out this meeting in favor of playing chess. However, a part of me is envious that the twins can shrug off their responsibilities to spend time with Mina.
I shoot her a little smile before following Crane and Felix out of the library and into his office.
Crane settles into his chair behind his desk, his expression unreadable.
“Alright, lads. What’s so urgent it couldn’t wait until morning?”
Felix remains standing as he begins to debrief his boss with tonight’s findings.
“Our Russian friend got his hands on some intel I thought you should know about.”
Crane’s eyes darken. “I didn’t know we had friends in the Bratva.”
“We don’t,” I answer quickly. “He’s a snitch that we keep on payroll.”
Crane pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exaggerated exhale.
“So, he’s playing both sides.”
Felix confirms with a curt nod. “As long as we pay more than his boss, he’ll remain loyal to us.”
“Sure he will.” Crane scoffs. “And just how reliable is this rat?”
“In this case?” Felix steps forward. “Very.”
Crane steeples his fingers. “Alright. Come out with it, then. What did he tell you?”
Felix takes a beat before meeting his gaze. “It seems that there’s a new Pakhan in play, Boss.”
Crane’s expression doesn’t change at the unexpected and unsettling news.
“Is that so?”
Felix nods.
“Apparently, there was a small coup in the Bratva earlier this week—”
“And let me guess,” Crane interjects with a frown. “Vasily was taken out for greener pastures so some new blood could wear his crown.”
Again, Felix nods.
Crane studies him for a long moment. “And do we have any intel on this usurper?”
“We do,” I reply, deciding to jump in on the conversation after doing a quick background check on the new Pakhan on our drive over here. “His name is Mikhail Petrov. Misha, to his inner circle. He’s ambitious. Cunning. Calculated.” I hesitate. “Traits I don’t particularly like in an enemy.”
“Hmm, I remember Misha well. The little sewer rat gave me the stink eye when I was discussing a peace treaty with Vasily back in the day.” Crane exhales, rubbing his temple. “Is he still in the motherland, or do I need to worry about him coming here? ”
Felix exchanges a glance with me before answering. “His attention seems to be elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“Stateside, Boss.”
The muscle in Crane’s jaw tightens at the news. “Hmm. That doesn’t bode well for your father.” He leans forward on his desk, his full attention focused on me. “While I had the good sense to broker a peace treaty, Vincent wasn’t as compromising with the Bratva. It’s well known that they still hold a grudge against the Outfit for being driven out to the West Coast.”
I stiffen at the underlying threat in his eyes.
“I need to call him. He needs to know what’s happening,” I say in a hurry while trying to find my phone.
Crane holds up a hand to stop me and says, “Easy, son. Let me handle delivering the news to your father. Boss to boss.”
I bite my inner cheek but nod just the same. “Of course.”
“Good. While I deal with that, I want everything you can find out about Mikhail Petrov and his crew. If he so much as thinks about leaving Russia, I want to know first. Understood?”
“Yes, Boss.” Felix and I say in unison.
“The last thing we need is the Bratva regaining momentum,” Crane grumbles under his breath.
“I’ll dig up everything I can,” Felix repeats steadfastly.
“Good. Keep me updated.” Crane pushes back from his desk. “Anything else?”
When we shake our heads, he glances at his Rolex and sighs. “It’s late. You’re both welcome to stay the night.”
I’m about to decline when Felix answers for me. “Thank you, Boss.”
Once we leave Crane in his office to make his calls, I don’t miss how Felix adjusts his collar.
“You alright there, Felix?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he declares while quickening his pace.
I stop him in his tracks by placing my hand on his shoulder.
“If we’re going to spend the night here, best we alert the housekeeper, Agatha, to prepare your room.”
Felix looks at the library door just a few steps away before bowing his head in defeat.
“Of course.”
“I’ll help you find her.” I smile a bit too widely to go unnoticed.
To Felix’s dismay, it takes us a good twenty minutes to find Agatha. When we finally re-enter the great hall, we come face to face with Crane once more.
“Everything settled with your room, Felix?”
He nods.
“Good. How about a nightcap before we call in the night?”
Not waiting for an answer, Crane struts into the library with us in tow, all smiles.
“See, sweet pea? That didn’t take long, did it?”
“Took long enough,” Mina mutters, arms crossed. “These jackasses couldn’t play chess if their lives depended on it.”
“Just give me a minute,” Remus snaps, staring at the board as if it were an unsolvable math problem.
“I’m out. Too many rules for my liking.” Rolo yawns, stretching out on the sofa with his hands behind his head.
“It’s a thinking man’s game,” Felix smirks. “And your cousins aren’t thinking men.” He shrugs off his coat, draping it over the back of Remus’s chair where he’s still sitting. “Mind if I take a turn?”
“Be my guest.” Mina grins, waving her cousin aside.
“Whatever,” Remus grumbles as he stands, making sure to shoulder-check Felix on his way out.
“How about you, lad?” Crane nudges me. “Fancy a game of cards?”
“The only card game I know is Poker, and for total transparency, I’m pretty bad at it.”
“Bluffing already.” Crane chuckles. “I’ll take those odds.”
I grin as I walk behind him to a table with green baize where cards are spread out in the center. But before I take a seat, I glance over to Felix and Mina as they quietly play their own game.
There’s something between them—an understanding.
And for some reason, it rubs me the wrong way.
For all intents and purposes, Mina is still two days away from her eighteenth birthday, while Felix celebrated his thirty-third last May. That’s a damn big age difference for two people who seem to understand each other so effortlessly.
“Your mind somewhere else, son?” Crane asks, watching me closely as he deals the cards.
“I was just thinking about the Russians,” I lie.
Crane hums while stacking his chips. “Ah, so the Bratva has put that scowl on your face. Here I thought it was because you were questioning Felix’s intentions with my daughter.”
That fucking gets my attention.
“Does he have any? Intentions, I mean?”
“He’s expressed his… interest. ” Crane smiles like this shit is amusing to him. “But then again, so have others with the same drive and ambition.”
“So there are others.” I frown, glancing over to Mina’s table again when I hear her sweet laugh.
“Does that disturb you?”
“Of course it does. Doesn’t it disturb you?” I counter, turning my attention to him.
“Should it?” he says, eyeing his cards.
“Of course it should. This is Mina’s future we’re talking about. She can’t end up marrying someone old enough to be her father just because he wants to be the boss.”
“Ah.” Crane lifts a finger. “Mina already has a father, and The Firm still has a boss, so that is a moot point. Now, if your grievance is due to the fact that you would wish to see my daughter married to someone closer to her age, I’m inclined to agree with you.”
“Do I have your word that you won’t encourage Felix’s… what did you call it? Ah, yes, interest?”
Crane lets out a low chuckle while combing his long white beard.
“The only person in this room I encourage to do anything with her life is my daughter. Though I’m not concerned. My Mina knows her own mind and will undoubtedly choose what is best for her. If that be Felix, then she has my blessing.”
When my frown deepens, his smile only broadens.
“Not what you wanted to hear, lad?”
I shake my head.
“That’s fine. But let me ask you one question. Why do you care?”
I keep my head lowered behind my cards before answering.
“She’s the only real friend I’ve made since coming here. I… care for her. Mina is important to me.”
“Yes, I see that she is.” He continues to smile. “Fret not, lad. The future is beyond anyone’s scope. Who knows what tomorrow brings? The only certain thing is today. I wouldn’t worry about such things.”
I wish I could be as nonchalant.
However, for the rest of the night, I try not to let Mina’s whimsical laughter, sparked by something Felix said, bother me—even if it grated on my nerves.