The interview room was eerily quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Reggie Kray sat across from you, his suit immaculate despite the situation. He was composed—too composed. Unlike Ronnie, there was no erratic energy, no unpredictable outbursts. Just sharp eyes studying you, calculating.

“You know why we’re here,” you said smoothly, your voice carrying its usual calm authority. “This isn’t like before, Reggie. They want to make an example out of you.”

Reggie exhaled through his nose, adjusting his cufflinks, unimpressed. “They’ve wanted that for years, love. Never stuck before.”

You didn’t break eye contact. “This time, it will. They have witnesses. Testimonies. Paper trails. If we don’t move carefully, they’ll tear everything down—including you.”

Reggie leaned back, arms resting on the chair, his expression unreadable. “And what do you suggest?”

You remained poised, but you knew this was a dangerous game. Reggie wasn’t like his brother—he wouldn’t lash out. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as lethal.

“You listen to me,” you said, your voice unwavering. “And we do this my way.”

For a moment, Reggie simply watched you, the weight of his silence pressing into the room. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he gave a slow, knowing nod.