ONE

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CHAPTER ONE


The usual glitz and noise of London had been replaced with an eerie sort of quietness. It was an ominous air, clinging to the streets like a fog. Along that street, there was no echoing of jazz, no glow of bar lights and no stench of spilt alcohol staining the cobblestones. The click of heels broke that silence, cutting through it like a blade, like a light in the darkest of corners.

"Miss Davis." The voice called to her from the dark of the alley, almost like the hiss of a snake, the buzz of a fly. Her feet followed the sound like a moth to a flame, the stench of cigarette smoke calming her only slightly.

"It's Smith, thank you," Adelaide said, finding the man's eyes in the dulled glow of lamplight. She didn't recognise him, but he knew exactly who she was.

"The boss would like to thank you for your support," he began, dark eyes trailing her every movement as she walked to lean against the wall, merging into the shadows, stubbing out her cigarette against the brick.

"I don't have time for this," she said, gaze flickering to the end of the street. A lone figure stood there, his body an extension of the shadows he'd emerged from. Adelaide watched him carefully. "Why am I here?"

The Italian let out a light laugh, a harsh sort of sound that was forced enough to gargle in his throat. His arms were folded calmy against his stomach and suddenly Adelaide felt terribly afraid.

"Mr Sabini would also like to apologise in advance."

Her voice barely escaped above a whisper. "What for?"

A verbal answer never came. Rough hands grabbed onto her, pulling her backwards. The bague darkness of night was replaced with the resolute blackness of a hood, blinding her senses. Adelaide let out a sharp cry as they dragged her feet in the direction of the street. She threw her head backwards, connecting with a strong crack to a nose in the same instance she brought her elbow crashing backwards.

"Get your hands off me!" Her voice was muffled by the thick material blocking her lips.

Backwards and backwards, she was being dragged toward the street, just as anticipated. Harry is here, the thought gave little comfort to her mind, Harry will fix this. But in that same moment, the hood was swiped swiftly from her head, momentarily halting her struggle. There, head leaning through the open window of a car, was her brother, bound and gagged, a cut spilling from above his eye.

He was muttering her name over and over. Adelaide. Adelaide. Adelaide. The hood was placed over her eyes again as she was pushed into the car. She could feel her brother's presence at her side, his head lulling against her shoulder. The rumbling of the car brought her thoughts forward again.

Without her sight, she could not tell where they took them. The first thing she noticed as she was pulled from the car, was the unwavering damp smell that thickened the air like soured milk. Adelaide cringed and held her breath, letting her ears focus on the sounds, but there was nought but silence in that large room. Even with the blindfold on, she could feel the vastness of it, that deep, isolating chill that only came with dark space.  

She was met with the face of Sabini's subordinate when the mask was pulled from her face, the darkness never changing. 

"Why is he doing this?"

The man didn't need a reason. He was Darby Sabini, the king of the racecourse gangs. In the south, it was Sabini who ran everything, from the racecourses the the underground world of London. 

"Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she bit out, feeling the fire of the rope burn against her skin.

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