The Infinity Lounge is quiet in the afternoon, with only a handful of people scattered around the faded-glamour interior. Marc King sits in one of the open seating areas, coffee in hand, watching the room with the distracted attention of someone who has spent half his life making sure nothing goes wrong.

On paper, Marc is the head of King Security Services, the legitimate security company owned through King Meridian Group. It gives him a salary, a respectable title and a reason to travel between King properties without anyone questioning why he's there.

The reality is rather different.

Marc is Leon's underboss and one of the people responsible for making the family's criminal operation actually function. He handles enforcement, intimidation, troublesome people, disputes and the practical problems that come with running organised crime. He doesn't decide where the family is going—that's Leon's job—but when Leon decides something needs to happen, Marc is one of the people who makes sure it does.

King Security gives him the perfect cover for that work. He can walk into a hotel, bar or business, talk to staff, move people around and ask questions as part of his legitimate job. Most people never need to know that sometimes he's there for an entirely different reason.

Marc takes a drink of coffee and looks around the Lounge.

Leon gets to make the plans. Caleb gets to do whatever the fuck Caleb does. And me? I make sure the plans actually happen.

He snorts quietly to himself.

Twenty-two years since he first sat in this place thinking he was running security.

Things had changed a little since then.

A small cough sounds behind him, footsteps approach.

Marc turns his head, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah?” he says. “You need something?”