Ian

I knew I was fucked the moment I sensed movement behind me. The heavy hand that landed on my shoulder was just the confirmation. I turned and found myself face-to-torso with an expensive suit, much too nice to be in an alley like this for any wholesome purpose. Atop the suit was an oblong face with a scarred cheek, framed by dark, sculpted hair.

When he spoke, it was with a slight, but distinctly refined, Calabrian accent. Despite the situation, I found myself wishing I could hear him sing. He said, "You don't look like the sort who wants to be found hiding in a backstreet, my friend."

Slowly, trying to look as unthreatening as possible – as if I posed any threat at all to this enormous mafioso – I spread my arms away from my sides, palms open towards him. "Sorry sir, I don't mean no trouble."

"And what do you mean, eh?"

There are only certain very specific lies you can tell in this kind of situation and be believed, even if what you say is actually true. What I'd actually been doing was trailing Brynna Hynafol to a meeting with Mynah Darling's management to see if any connection between the Castelloro gang and Nosa Costra was evident.

Playing it as cool as I could, I said, "Alright, I'm a PI. My client has a… personal interest in Miss Hynafol and wanted me to check if she was having a personal interest in someone else, if you catch my drift."

"Personal?" He sneered.

I shrugged. "Dirty work, but it pays the bills." It wasn't hard to sound sincere on that count. That is normally how I pay my bills, and it stinks.

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"And what will you tell this personal client, hey?"

Again, I had to choose my words carefully. If I wanted to walk away with all my teeth and kneecaps, I needed to assure this man and all he represented that no information about what Nosa Costra were doing here would be of use to my client. At the same time, he had to believe that I was what I said I was – which was even harder, because it was so close to the truth. But there was an opportunity in it, if I chose my words carefully.

I gave him another slightly pathetic shrug. "I was trying to show him that Miss Hynafol was the link the Castelloros used to lease that IL dragon from you guys. He's not interest-" I stopped, freezing to a tight-throated silence at the way the big man's face changed.

His brow had pinched, two thin dark lines appearing at the insides of his eyebrows. He leant forwards, just slightly, not to menace me but to ask another question. "Castelloro, you say?"

Shit. What I knew of the investigation so far stampeded through my head. If this guy – no question that he was Nosa Costra – didn't know about the Castelloro involvement, but he was interested in Soot, then there was no way Angelo Castelloro had acquired Soot with the mafia's blessing. That suggested a subterfuge that I'd just let the cat out of the bag on.

When I didn't immediately answer, the mafioso's enormous hand landed on my shoulder again. "Listen, this doesn't have to go badly for you. I'll let you go back to your client and tell him to stay far away from Miss Hynafol. You just tell me what you know about Castelloro."

He didn't even need to squeeze his grip. I could tell from exactly where his thumb lay on my sweat-damp shirt that if I tried to evade or run, he'd snap my collarbone like bubblewrap. At least if I got away intact then I might have a chance to get a warning out through Lachlan. If I could figure out how to contact him.

I took a deep breath. "Hynafol reports to a Castelloro man called Jesse Elfran. Tenebrae is based out of a building owned by a Castelloro front. I haven't joined those dots yet. That's all I know."

He glared at me for a long moment. It was intimidation, but also memorising my face, I was sure. As dangerous as this case had been thus far, it would be a lot worse from now on. Finally he said, "Alright, get lost, hah? Tell your client you're dropping the case. Don't be seen around this again, for your own safety."