The six-hour flight across the Atlantic passed under a stream of calls from my capos. I had taken the first available private jet and left New York while the families divided what remained. All I could see was Evangeline on that balcony with Julian Caine.
Julian ran the European networks and rarely appeared in public. I had treated him as a distant rival. Now his hand was on Evangeline's waist and his ring was on her finger.
I told myself the engagement was staged to punish me. Evangeline had found the one man whose name could force me onto a plane. When the jet landed in London, I was ready to agree to any price for a meeting.
The last of my international contacts willing to answer me found a car and a location. Evangeline and Julian were on their way to a private dinner in Mayfair. Th
