RECKLESS HEARTS

PROLOGUE (L)

LIAM KNIGHT

"Knight, the Chief wants to see you," I sigh irritated at my partner, Victor's words, anger dripping from his mouth, not that I blamed him. We had just set up an ambush on one of the business' Mr Jonathan Slater owned, that we suspected to be a front for one of his countless illegal activities, only for us to show up and the whole warehouse to be empty. 

It wasn't a secret that Jonathan Slater was the leader of the Mafia that terrorised this country, but he made it difficult to pin that fact on him, so much so I wondered if he screwed around with us just for his enjoyment. Constantly tempting us, just for him to pull he rug out from under us.

The sick game of cat and mouse, but in this one people were dying.

He was truly the definition of scum, in my eyes, but also the eyes of the entire police force. 

Ripping off my bulletproof vest and throwing it on my desk, I scowl facing the Chief Constable's office. 

I looked up to Chief Turner, he was a man who saw some of the most harrowing crimes, but stayed on the force for 35 years, wanting to keep the people safe.

Right now, however, I swallow the pang of defeat from the failed raid, ready to take on Chief Turner's anger. That was 4 months of planning down the drain, even through I'm guessing Jonathan Slater was enjoying seeing this.

I step into his office looking down, but my Chief wide grin shocks me. "Ah... Chief you wanted a word?", my question just makes the old man laugh, pissing me off further. "Detective Knight, please tell me you wanna catch that bastard Slater as much as I do." 

"Obviously," I pause clearing the anger from my strained voice, "I wanna take out the whole of the goddamn Mafia... Chief." 

Chief Turner just grins wider slamming his aged but hefty hand on my shoulder. "You're gonna have to do something about the scuff on your face, but it should work." My hands shoot up to my growing dark beard and I narrow my eyes at him. Chief Turner ignores my questioning glare, and slams down a packet of documents on his marked up desk.

I pick it up hesitantly and suddenly feel as if in that moment I was making a deal with the Devil.

My eyebrows furrow at the documents, it's my picture but a completely different name and birth date. 

William Lane, aged 23... What a stupid name. 

The Chief just looks pleased with himself in his swivel chair, his desk littered with now useless Intel about Slater's now empty warehouse. "You, my boy, are going back to university," he states simply in his gruff voice.

I let out the breath I was holding and sit down, sure I had done undercover ops but that was for a month tops, I knew this would be a much longer game. Therefore, the risk of being caught out was greater, not to mention more dangerous. 

This was the Mafia we are talking about, not some little league drug dealers. 

I look to the wall where all the information about Slater's Mafia was pinned, but it was mostly pictures of his victims and loyal workers. My eyes shift to the family tree and the familiar university name catches my eyes. 

Cole Slater, son of Jonathan Slater, heir to the Mafia. He was only 23, but he had his hands dirty in his father's business, as well as attended university for his masters. God knows what he was doing on campus in his spare time, but I suppose that's why they are sending me there. To find out.