8. Marko

CHAPTER 8

MARKO

EARLY HOURS SATURDAY MORNING – ANOTHER ENEMY REVEALED

W hen Melissa ended the call, it was nearly time for my next shift, and my face was sore from all the grinning and flirting. But my discomfort wasn't limited to my facial muscles—I also had a throbbing erection that demanded relief, so I took a quick shower to ease the tension.

Earlier, after I had escorted Melissa home following the robbery, I returned to my apartment for a few hours of much-needed sleep. Afterwards, feeling more refreshed, I reviewed the security footage Josh had obtained from the area around where the robbery took place.

Luckily, I was able to trace the journey of the motorbike all the way to an SUV, where they handed over Melissa's bag to someone inside before riding off again. I messaged Josh to run the plates and continue tracking where the guys on the bike went.

So, as I dried off, his response came through. He'd identified the SUV owner. I stared at the name on the screen, stunned. Timothy Evans-Hughes was an MP and part of the Government. Why would he send men to grab Melissa's bag? How the hell was an MP involved with her? Shocked, I forwarded all the information to Miki for further investigation.

After dressing, I grabbed a quick bite to eat, filled a coffee flask for the long night ahead, and headed back to Melissa's place to begin my night shift.

During the short drive, I replayed our earlier conversations in my mind. Melissa had shown eagerness to see me again, which matched my own feelings. Her straightforwardness about her recent return to London and lack of a social life resonated with me—I didn't have much of a social life myself these days, not after spending the last year in particular bogged down with work to keep my family safe. I admired her honesty and directness.

Melissa's openness also hinted at a willingness to cooperate, which could prove beneficial for uncovering more about her connection to Mathieson and the MP. Despite the mystery surrounding her, I no longer viewed her as a threat to my family. In fact, I felt a protective instinct toward her, surprising myself with the intensity of my concern for someone I barely knew. However, virtual stranger or not, the woman was alone and in danger, and I wasn't about to let anything happen to her.

Somehow I sensed that Melissa Martin was poised to become a significant presence in my life, though I couldn't quite explain why I felt so strongly about it. It wasn't just physical attraction, there was something deeper that drew me to her. The anticipation of our upcoming breakfast date only heightened my eagerness to see her again, and I couldn't help the grin on my face as I joined Luca in the van, prompting a curious glance from my colleague.

"What's got that shit-eating grin on your face?" he asked.

I smirked and shook my head, not quite ready to divulge my growing feelings for Little Miss Pouty Lips. Thankfully, Luca didn't press further.

Once Luca left, I pulled out my flask of coffee and settled down for another night of surveillance. A few hours later, Miki called.

"The two guys on the bike were just hired help," he explained. "They were tasked with following Melissa and grabbing her bag when she left the bank. They handed it over to one of the MP's bodyguards. They were just two lowlifes, so I had them run out of town and warned to never come back to London again. I'm having the bodyguard picked up, too."

As I monitored Melissa's building, I opened my laptop and started digging into the MP's background. Initially, nothing significant popped up. Then, it dawned on me — Mathieson's real surname was Hughes, and his father was Ewan Hughes. The MP's name was Timothy Evans-Hughes; double-barrelled surnames often combined the mother's and father's surnames. Could Ewan Hughes and the MP be related?

After a bit of research, I found Timothy Evans-Hughes's birth certificate, which confirmed his parents' names – Ewan Hughes and Elizabeth Evans. I located their marriage certificate and subsequent divorce papers. Bingo!

Simon Aiden Hughes, or Aiden Mathieson as he became known, and Timothy Evans-Hughes were half-brothers; the MP, being the result of his father's first marriage.

I called Miki, who sounded frustrated when he answered.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Someone hit the game last night!" he stated, blowing out a breath in frustration.

"The monthly?"

"Yeah. Everyone was shot at. Tereza got out, along with Vlad, but everyone else was taken out. I've had to shut things down for now."

"Fuck!"

"How many?"

"Five dead. Six were playing. Three businessmen from out of town, Jimmy the knife and Carson James and some Spanish guy that Carson brought along and vouched for. Turns out he went to the toilet mid-way through the game. We reckon he must have retrieved a gun from somewhere then came back and shot up the place," Miki said through clenched teeth.

"Geez. What about the shooter?"

"Escaped. A car pulled up shooting at the guys we had on security outside, just as the shooting started inside. It was well coordinated. They kept our guys pinned down until the Spanish guy was done inside. Then they drove off with him."

Fuck!

After the recent battles with the Malia Boys and Broxy's, Glowacki and my brother took over most of their operations so that our enemies couldn't. Things were split up between us and since we already had a casino and ran a high stakes annual poker game, we got a couple of their clubs and their underground gambling dens.

So, we were now running their high stakes monthly poker games too. These were illegal games, especially the high stakes games, so were by invitation only. To get in, you needed to be invited at the recommendation of a regular player. Carson Wells and Jimmy the knife were both regulars, so anyone they vouched for was considered fairly low risk. Obviously, that was a big mistake on our part.

Tereza was one of the croupiers who we used for these games. She was the head croupier at the small legitimate casino we ran and was Vlad's sister, so she was trustworthy. I was glad to hear Vlad had been there, he usually is when his sister is working but not always, so I was pleased he was able to get her out safely.

"Any idea who was behind it?" I asked.

"Nope, that's the problem. Our spies say that none of our usual enemies could have done it. They are all being closely monitored. Nobody knows where these guys have come from or who the Spanish guy is," Miki said, the frustration and confusion clear in his voice.

"I'm not sure if it could be related at all but I just found a link between Mathieson and the MP. Turns out Timothy Evans-Hughes is the son of Ewen Hughes from his first marriage to a woman called Elizabeth Evans and so he and Mathieson are half-brothers," I told him.

"Shit!"

He took a steadying breath.

"That seems a bit too much of a coincidence that we are attacked just at the time there is activity on the account and Mathieson's brother has the woman's bag grabbed, and you know Dad never believed in coincidences."

"Yeah, and Dad was usually right. Seems way too convenient not to be related. I'm still not sure what the link is to Melissa Martin though, but I'll find that out soon."

"I'll get the MP's bodyguard questioned, and I think it might be time to put some pressure on Nigel Simpson again. I think he knows a lot more than he is letting on," he told me before hanging up.

Hmmm. Suddenly having another enemy appear out of the woodwork when we had just discovered the link between the MP and Mathieson was too much of a coincidence, indeed. Maybe the half-brother was seeking revenge?

I emailed Josh to have him, and the rest of my guys, look into everything they could on the MP. He still had found nothing yet on Melissa. It was odd. There had to be some connection. Maybe I should just ask her outright. After all, if the MP had her bag grabbed, it meant he was after something he believed she possessed, and it suggested their relationship wasn't amicable. Perhaps he was the one working with Mathieson and, if so, my Little Miss Pouty Lips and I had a mutual enemy.

Leaning my head back against the headrest, I gazed at her window. It was dark, and the streetlight nearest the van was out, which was why we chose to park here. The one closest to the building was also out, meaning the back of the building was in complete darkness. But something caught my eye.

Was that movement?

Peering out of the window, I tried to make out something in the dark. After a while, I thought perhaps I was wrong and settled back in the chair. But I couldn't quite shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Ensuring the cab light was off, I quietly closed the van door and crept closer to the building.