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restrained us.’

‘I did,’ Slater said. ‘The most effective sort of restraint. One you can’t slip out of. One that needs time to heal.’

They fell begrudgingly silent.

He said, ‘Consider yourselves lucky.’

He returned the Glock to its polymer holster, turned and left the room before anyone in the group had the time to process that he was on the move.

By the time they snatched their Berettas back up, Slater was a ghost in the wind.

45

Duke thrashed the jeep to its limits as they merged onto California State Route 73.

Toward Laguna Beach and the small alcove of Emerald Bay, home to some of the most impressive real estate on the West Coast.

King watched the man get cocky in real time. Duke had revealed the dirt he had on Liam Kingsley, and now he was über-confident. It made King wonder — is this all it takes? But when he looked at it objectively, it made sense.

Few had the bombastic bravery to go straight into the field at a moment’s notice with little information or resources besides what resided in their own head. He’d done so, and, backed up by a flawless cover story from Alonzo, was now integrated with Duke and his crew. Now the fake Kingsley had just as much to lose as the West Coast gangsters he was helping.

It takes serious effort to convince a seasoned criminal they’ve got all the leverage in the world, but when they’re convinced of it, lips loosen and compromising information starts to flow.

Duke said, ‘An anonymous source reached out to me and my boys last week. It took some serious demanding to get them to reveal who they were representing, but I’m persuasive, so eventually they told me they’re from a hidden department within Donati Group.’

King nodded. It made sense. It was the same principle.

Donati Group wouldn’t have got in touch with Duke unless they knew he had something to lose, also.

If either of them went to the cops, it was mutually assured destruction.

So secrets were kept.

Duke said, ‘There’s a certain container showing up tomorrow night that’s worth its weight in gold. They know I know my way around the port, and they don’t have people they can trust with illicit activity in Cali, so they figured I was the man for the job.’

‘Are they okay with me being here?’

‘They don’t know,’ Duke said. ‘It doesn’t concern them. My usual crew is seven, and I’ve worked with seven the whole time I’ve been doing this. I don’t like to change what isn’t broken. Roman got spooked two weeks ago and did a runner. Fucking scumbag.’

‘How’d Donati Group know you were dirty in the first place?’

‘There’s rumours,’ Duke said. ‘In the intelligence community. I’ve bought off the right people, so I hear the rumours before the law does. They’re not unsubstantiated. But there’s no way they can prove any of it. Donati Group, however, knew the rumours were probably true.’

‘And what are those rumours?’

‘That my businesses are fronts for the profits I make from distributing illegal goods out of the port. You know — drugs and guns and girls. I’m the middleman. I make sure things get where they’re supposed to go.’

‘You confessing to me?’

Duke rolled his eyes, and raised his voice above the wind whipping through the exposed cabin. ‘Why the fuck did you think I brought you here, brother?’

‘Because you were feeling generous?’ King said, deliberately sarcastic.

Duke grinned. ‘Nah. Cause I know I can tell you whatever I want, and you can’t do shit with it. Or you go down, too.’

‘You are careful.’

‘Only way to be. Only way you can thrive.’

King nodded.

‘God bless the Internet, hey?’ Duke said. ‘Gives me a way to screen hired help before I bring them in.’

Gives you a way to get fed bullshit, too.

King elected not to divulge that train of thought.

Duke veered onto the Pacific Coast Highway, with the ocean on their right and trees and bushes on their left. The sun beat down on the back of King’s neck, and he took a brief moment to be present. The weather was good, and the wind on his face made him feel alive.

He knew he wouldn’t get another opportunity to savour California.

As soon as they arrived, he’d get to work. That never involved peace. Then he’d jump on a plane straight back to New York and do his best to sort out the Slater situation.

And think about your own future.

His life had never been more turbulent.

Then the jeep flew through Crystal Cove and hit Emerald Bay, and any extraneous thoughts fell away.

Duke pulled into the long curved driveway of a multi-million dollar house. Three storeys, a big balcony with a metal railing running the entire length of the second level, the whole thing propped up on the edge of a rise in the land. Prime real estate. Incredible value. The weather made it look like something out of a fantasy — gorgeous sparkling water, cloudless sky, hot sun, acres of land. Landscapers had installed a stand of tall palm trees in the dirt at the foot of the hill, with the fronds falling just shy of the house’s elevated foundations. The trees put the cherry on top of the idyllic setting.

Duke parked next to a jet-black Maybach, both vehicles resting in front of a dormant fountain, and said, ‘What do you think?’

King stared up at the house in false awe, even though his real abode back in New York cost four times as much. ‘I need to do crime on your level, brother.’

‘You’ll get there,’ Duke said. ‘You’re still young and foolish.’

‘Foolish?’

‘Look how easily I got dirt on you.’

King shrugged. ‘Maybe I don’t care about that.’

‘You should.’

‘I trust you.’

Duke looked over. ‘I appreciate that, brother. But don’t let anyone get the jump on you. No matter how much you trust them. I’ve got power over you now, you see? I can get you to do whatever you want for me, and if you refuse, I’ll feed the evidence I found to the cops. You ain’t got shit on

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