1. Play Nice

10 years later

Leonie

“I’m so sorry. I tried to fight it the best I could,” Derek winced on the other end of the phone. His voice was dismal, broken. His words alone could have brought me to tears, but his tone was the final nail in the ten-year-old coffin.

I sniffed and nodded, though he couldn’t see me. In my dark apartment, I sat alone on the sofa, the phone pressed to my ear. The TV was the only light; the credits of the film I hadn’t focused on rolled. There wasn’t a hope in hell that I could pay attention to the rom-com when I’d been expecting this call. I’d been expecting this result.

“The parole hearing is going ahead,” he continued as I picked at the fringe of my blanket. It was ridiculously hot outside for the beginning of the English summer, but I needed the comfort. “And as much as you don’t want to hear this and already know this, Firdman’s record since being in prison has been impeccable. His lawyers are pretty bloody good, too.”

“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled, picking harder, pulling the cotton out and placing it on the arm of the chair. “New lawyers. Again. Where is he getting this money from?”

My phone buzzed in my ear. From the text tone, I knew exactly who it was. Jared. My ex.

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted, frustrated. It was rare he didn’t know something. The most expensive lawyer in my hometown, the man who worked ruthlessly for gang families across the coast. Including mine.

If he didn’t know, not only was Daniel Firdman suddenly rich, but he was also well cared for. Surely that was all the proof they needed that the scum from North Darley wasn’t as he had seemed at trial ten years ago.

If Derek didn’t know what had happened, there was no hope.

Throughout my legal career thus far, Derek was the mentor who kept me going. This case, my father’s murder, was the one that inspired me to take the career path when my family’s route had already been picked out for me.

I knew it was a disappointment for some for the mafia princess, Luís Castillo’s only child and heir, to be in a courtroom.

My family had never exactly been on the right side of the law, but when the Belovs and Castillos joined to create legal businesses, Derek became one of their fast and much-needed friends.

“It’s only been ten years,” I grovelled. The five stages of grief had been on rotation for those years. I was back to bargaining.

“I think we were lucky to get that far,” he said quietly. “Armed robbery with a fatality. Without being able to confirm it was premeditated… you know this, Leonie.”

“I do. I know you’re right.” I stopped picking at the blanket and started breathing properly again. “Thank you for updating me, D.”

“You alone?” he asked quickly, only just stopping me from hanging up. “You can come and join me and Julia. We’ll get a late-night takeaway. I don’t think you should be by yourself tonight.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” I replied with a huff as I stood up and let the blanket fall on the floor. It would soon be time to start a new bottle of wine. I held my phone to my shoulder, cocking my head to the side as I pulled two bottles of white wine out of the fridge. Seeing as one was so very nearly done, it wouldn’t hurt to grab the other. “Issy will be back soon.”

“Where’s she gone?” he asked. “You can both come round when she’s back.”

Derek and Julia still lived in the house they had before. In my life, there was always a before that night and after. Their house was three miles away from my abandoned childhood home.

Now that Issy and I had moved to Osburn, it was a two-hour drive past that house to go and see them on the coast. It wasn’t something I was willing to do tonight. “D, we wouldn’t get there until nearly midnight. And she’s out with Dom.”

Her shithead brother.

“Oh.”

I sat back on the sofa, wrapping the blanket around me and filling my glass.

“Well, that’s strange. I didn’t think they got on anymore.”

“It’s not that,” I said and took a big gulp. The Leonie three months ago would have gotten whiplash at the thought of drinking a whole bottle of wine to herself in one night. Since rehab eight years ago, I’d stayed away from any narcotics, but I’d never had an issue with alcohol.

Now, it was rare on the weekends if I didn’t get through two bottles of wine each night.

“It’s his girlfriend. She’s always there.”

“Well, if you see him, play nice.”

“Don’t I always?” I asked sweetly.

“No,” Derek deadpanned. “Neither of you do, actually.”

“I’ll be nice.”

“Love you, Leonie Lion,” he said sadly. “And call me with anything you need. If you want any help with that marking, give me a shout.”

Oh yes, a lovely reminder of the dissertations I was yet to mark.

“I most definitely will. Thanks, D.”

“Anytime. Don’t drink too much of that wine.”

And we hung up with light laughter. As soon as his chuckle cut off, the flat was unnervingly silent. I’d muted the TV when he called, and now, as the black credits continued to roll, there was only quiet darkness.

For a few minutes, I sat there, staring, blurring out my surroundings.

He was getting out of prison. He would be out there in the world, on the streets. And he’d only served ten years. Ten years for the life of the best man I’d ever known, for my mother’s sanity, for the life I should have had.

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat.

My father’s death had been no accident.

That night, he knew something was wrong. He’d dismissed all the house staff, telling Mum and me that no one could be trusted.

If the life didn’t kill you, it would make you paranoid. If it didn’t make you paranoid, it would at least make you enemies.

I’d given everything of our family’s cartel to Issy and Dom’s parents after they took me in. Though technically it was still in my name, I’d wanted nothing to do with that way of life. Nothing. My father had been coaching me since the age of ten as his successor, but witnessing what it did to him and my mum… it wasn’t something I could easily slip back into.

My stomach rumbling brought me out of my trance. I hadn’t eaten anything in anticipation of the call, and now the idea of a takeaway…

My phone buzzed again on the coffee table, but as it didn’t light up, I knew it was Jared. Again.

Yeah, I definitely deserved a pizza.

I whizzed a text off to Issy, asking if I should get a half-and-half or if she had grabbed food with her brother. My best friend preferred tomato over barbeque sauce, and though labelled a half-and-half pizza, the people at our local pizza parlour always favoured her base over mine.

Most of my Fridays for the last two months had been full of events. Distractions. This was the first weekend I had allowed myself to sit and fester, not plastering my smile or cocktail glass on social media for Jared to see.

Two months ago, I caught him cheating.

Three weeks ago, Derek told me my father’s killer was up for parole.

I wasn’t having a good time of it.

If I wasn’t drunk, eating, or doom-scrolling, I was working. Which was paying off. I was the youngest trainee lecturer the University of Drakon had ever taken on.

And I’d been thriving without my ex.

But I missed my old self, the one who could sit without my thoughts spiralling. Now, lounging on the sofa, the TV in the background, my own body felt heavy and foreign.

Maybe I was tired.

I hadn’t been getting much sleep.

When I did, I either dreamed of Jared groaning as that girl sucked his dick or the night my father died, my hands covered in blood, holding a gun.

On my laptop, I opened up the next dissertation my mentor had asked me to mark. The last essay had been a refreshing take on feminism and the police force, whereas the next was the one I knew I would put off.

When Armed Robbery Becomes Death: Is a Manslaughter Charge Adequate?

I couldn’t be in criminal law or become a lecturer for criminology without this coming up eventually.

If I wasn’t already second-guessing this career path, this would have been the start.

My phone buzzed at the same time my stomach rumbled again. Good. If she hadn’t replied soon, I would have ordered both. A pizza for me and a half-and-half. Half for her, one and a half for me.

Yes, I could demolish that.

DO NOT ANSWER: Not even breadcrumbs tonight? Are you not going to give me a clue as to where I can find you or what you’re doing?

The phone was so heavy in my grip, my hands feeble as it vibrated once and then again.

DO NOT ANSWER: We both know that’s why you’re posting so much. To show me what I’m missing.

DO NOT ANSWER: And I am. Missing you, I mean.

I groaned, staring at Jared’s texts. Yes, I may have reverted back to a sixteen-year-old when my emotions hit their peak and saved his name as that, but I didn’t regret it.

It was a warning from my past self. Do not answer.

But he was right. I needed to keep some form of communication with him.

I was checking that he saw my Instagram stories.

He was a means to an end. His father was a great and somewhat corrupt officer with strong links to the prison where my father’s murderer was jailed.

I needed Jared on my side for a little bit longer. In case Firdman was going to be released… and I needed an unfortunate prison attack to take his life.

He was a last resort, but a necessary link.

ISSY: We’re coming back to ours. We can order for the three of us?

The three of us. Her brother was coming here. To our flat. And on one of the worst nights of my life.

I would have to play nice.