Early that morning, inside a luxurious villa on Browning Road.
Marcus Kane woke at his usual time.
As the current leader of the Valentin Party, Marcus had always believed that his self-discipline deserved much of the credit for his rise to his present position.
Alcohol, prostitutes, marijuana... intoxicating as those things were, Marcus never let them interfere with business. Several times, he had even pulled up his trousers halfway through a session with a prostitute and led his men out to fight a rival gang.
He put on a silk dressing gown and stepped onto the balcony. Listening to the faint clatter of carriages and voices around him, Marcus frowned slightly, a trace of disgust flashing through his eyes.
If possible, he really wanted to move to Empress Borough. It was quiet and elegant, surrounded by celebrities and respectable people-the true high society.
To be honest, the gold pounds he had squeezed out of those pathetic wretches at the bottom of East Borough over the years were already more than enough to buy a villa in Empress Borough every bit as fine as this one and keep a few daughters of fallen noble families as mistresses.
Unfortunately, his current status was too disreputable. A gang boss was hardly someone who could stand in the light of day. Although he had acquired a few identities as the owner of trading companies to serve as cover, it was far too easy for the influential figures of high society to smell something fishy.
Especially with Backlund having just suffered a terrorist attack, the nobles and members of parliament were now extremely sensitive about security. They would never allow a gang leader who might attract a shoot-out or a revenge killing at any moment to live next door.
So Marcus had been considering how