“Ah. So, my good friend has returned to London,” Constance murmured. “How many more men does he have with him?”
Again, there was a moment of hesitation, to which she stepped closer. He closed his eyes in fright. “Th-three. There’s three.”
Constance prayed he was telling the truth. Nevertheless, he had served his purpose. “I do appreciate your assistance. But since I can’t have you sounding the alarm…” She replaced the hammer on the pistol and turned it around, using the butt of the weapon to strike him in the temple, just like Bull had shown her all those years ago.
He collapsed in a heap at her feet.
Constance stepped over him and kept the pistol steady in her grip. She also withdrew the dagger from beneath her skirts. She’d told Devin that she was never unprepared, and she’d meant it. Too many times this slight blade had been the saving grace between life and death in this city.
It might be the same now.
Since Constance knew Montfree’s like the back of her hand, she knew where each step creaked. She kept her back to the wall and snuck up the stairs. She paused just outside the closed office door, grateful to see that there wasn’t anyone outside, although it nearly made her snort to see it empty. For someone who was leading one of the most notorious gangs in London at the moment, Granelli didn’t know much about fortifying one’s keep.
Muffled voices came from inside, and now and again Constance could hear a grunt of pain. She gritted her teeth, as she had no doubt they were abusing Mr. Plainview. Because of her.
She closed her eyes for a moment, as it seemed that circle of hell would never end. She had already lost count of how many times she’d brought danger to her front door. Afterward, Bull had helped her clean up the mess, but it wasn’t without a twinge of guilt for putting him in that position to begin with. But as far as the assailants went, it wasn’t as if they would be sorely missed. In truth, the earth was better without their presence lingering to further contaminate it.
Constance opened her eyes and allowed Madame Corressa to rise up. She took hold of the door handle and boldly pushed it open. She walked inside with her gun cocked once more and her knife concealed from view, and offered Granelli a wide grin. “Hallo, boys.”
Chapter 17
“Are you sure it was one of Granelli’s men?” Devin asked with a frown. They were headed toward the gaming hell where Luke had claimed he’d recognized one of the gang members. Considering it was Montfree’s, the establishment that Constance used to run, he didn’t think it was a coincidence.
They’d hired a hackney to drop them off about a block away and then chose to walk the rest of the way, ensuring that they blended in with the rest of the crowd meandering about that afternoon.
“I never forget a face an’ I’m tellin’ ye it was ’im.”
Devin’s fists clenched. He knew that Constance believed the owner of the club to be a trusted confidante, but he wasn’t so sure of that. Most men were adept at lying and they played both sides of the game and sold out to whoever held the better profit. At this point, Constance didn’t stand to gain much from a partnership, while Granelli and his men could set up quite a nice money exchange.
He hated the fact that Constance had been forced to lead such a life. She should have been brought up with the finest things money could buy, draped in luxury like a spoiled debutante. Instead, she had survived the only way many other women did—by offering their bodies up for sale.
It sickened him.
He wished he would have found some way to find Constance first, as he would have done everything in his power to lift her up out of the mire of this detestable city and treat her like the queen she deserved.
He knew she still didn’t trust him, nor her responses to him, believing that nothing good could actually come from their time together, but it was his job to ensure that he followed through on his promises and not break them like so many of her former paramours.
Devin snapped out of his musings as they stopped before the gaming hell and Luke knocked on the door. They waited for a time, and then he tried again.
Nothing.
Devin’s focus was fixated on the door as he strode forward and pushed it open. It did so without issue. However, it was the large, male body that lay motionless on the floor, a dark bruise along the side of his temple that caused the blood to congeal in his veins.
“Whot th’ devil,” Luke breathed.
“Indeed,” Devin returned. He looked around at the space littered with empty chairs and tables free of any inhabitants and added, “Something’s not right here.”
“Aye,” the older man agreed. “Should we investigate?”
Devin’s glance caught something small and shiny on the floor. He walked over and picked it up, holding the item in his palm.
It was a lead ball.
The kind that one would tamp down into the barrel of a pistol.
His mind began spinning, but before he could come up with a direct conclusion, there was a crash above them.
He looked at Luke and together they sprinted toward the stairs.
