Prologue

MIKHAIL ROMINOV

LONDON – FRIDAY, MID-JULY – ANOTHER ENEMY DOWN

S lamming my fist into Siri's bloodied face for the last time, knowing the bastard was about to die, filled me with satisfaction. Blood coated my knuckles as I moved back to let my youngest brother, Marko, take another shot. Stepping aside, we allowed my friend and ally, Janusz Glowacki, to deliver his final blow.

As Glowacki pulled back, I nodded to my other brother, Ash. It was time. Ash stepped forward, smirked, and slit Siri's throat. Then we watched as Siri gurgled his last pitiful breath.

Glowacki's son, Dariusz, cut Siri's limp body down. My eyes narrowed as I stared at the man crumpled on the floor in a pool of crimson. I rarely felt satisfaction when I took part in a killing. None of us did, but this time I couldn't help myself, and I breathed a sigh of relief that another enemy was dead. Glowacki nodded to me in grim satisfaction, as glad as I was that the deed was done.

The Somali bastard, Siraaj Farah, also known as Siri, was the head of a gang called the Malia Boys. They had formed an alliance with another gang called the Broxley Estate Lads, known locally as the Broxys. They attacked our homes and family businesses and tried to break up our own alliance, so this outcome for Siri was inevitable.

In an unusual display of anger, my cousin Romi kicked the corpse.

"Fucking arsehole!" he cried, before turning and storming out of the room.

It wasn't often that Romi lost his cool over anything, but in this, I understood his anger. Siri had also kidnapped my sister, Romi's fiancé Sonia, and shot Romi. Romi was almost recovered now and thankfully, Sonia escaped virtually unharmed.

Unfortunately, we couldn't say the same about my other sister.

Two years ago, rogue members of the Polish Mafia, Lev Petrov, who had been Glowacki's second, and two of his soldiers, brothers Piotr and Szymon Nowack had killed my sister Krissa while they were conspiring to overthrow Glowacki's position as head of the Polish Mafia.

The night before they planned on murdering Glowacki and his family, they had gone out partying. Fuelled on drink and drugs, they had kidnapped a young woman off the street and raped and murdered her.

The three men had been so out of it they had left DNA evidence at the scene and were caught by the police. This had saved the lives of Glowacki and his family, but at a great loss to us.

At the time, we were led to believe that the men hadn't known who Krissa was when they attacked her. She was supposed to have been just a random woman to them.

However, we recently discovered that Petrov had recognised Krissa and contacted Siri who was apparently backing him in his plans, and Siri had told him to kill her.

Even if the bastard hadn't been a thorn in our sides for way too long, that fact alone would have been enough to sign his death warrant.

While I disliked torturing and killing anyone, as Pakhan of the Bratva in the UK, sometimes it was unavoidable. This was one of those times. We'd needed information from the guy, and he'd needed to suffer for what he'd done. The world was a better place without him.

My family didn't derive any joy from the suffering of others; but we didn't shy away from it either. We did what was necessary to protect ourselves and the rest of the Brotherhood. If there was an alternative way to handle our enemies, we utilised it. Otherwise, we brought them here, to the C, to die.

The C was short for the Smithson Crematorium, and it had been specially adapted so that we could deal with our enemies and dispose of their bodies easily and efficiently.

Dariusz and Ash started loading Siri's body into a body bag.

"We'll take the trash out," Ash said, grinning in a way that almost looked maniacal, as he zipped the bag up.

My heart clenched as I watched him. Ash was still coming to terms with Krissa's murder. He blamed himself for it.

Ash was supposed to pick Krissa up from a restaurant on the night it had happened, but he'd been running late and by the time he'd arrived, she was gone. The guilt had been eating away at him ever since.

Gracie, Ash's fiancé, had helped him deal with his anger issues over it and he was only now beginning to get over his guilt and grieve for Krissa properly. I just hoped that what we had learned from Siri tonight didn't set him back in his recovery.

Frustration filled me and I huffed as I walked out of the room behind Glowacki and Marko.

Siri had given the order to kill Krissa and had set up the recent alliance with the Broxys attempting to take us down. However, it would seem he had only been a pawn in the game. Someone else was pulling the strings. I bloody hated the idea of another enemy lurking in the shadows somewhere, just waiting to take another strike at me and mine.

Despite the torture he endured, Siri could not tell us who it was, since all his dealings had been via a go-between. We knew who that was, though. A lawyer named Nigel Simpson. One of our informants had already told us, but it was good that Siri confirmed it before he died.

As I showered and changed, I vowed I would find out who our secret enemy was. Nobody messed with my family or friends and got away with it.