Shadowed (Team Zero #4) by Rina Kent

I drop my hand to my lap. The habit still gives me away even as an adult.

“You nervous?” Liam cocks his head to where President Joe is.

“Course not, Li. Don’t be ridiculous.”

And yet, my finger is itching to twirl that strand again. I’m not scared. I’m not. I’ve been plotting this for months. I’ve dreamt about doing it for years. No. Decades. I’ve been obsessing over this since I woke up to find my parents dead and I’m twenty-five already.

It’s that I’m scared about losing Elle and Liam. Maybe I won’t survive this and never see them again.

The thought brings nausea to the back of my throat.

“Just take care of Ellie once I’m gone. Yeah?” I try to sound as casual as possible, but my voice comes out emotional. It’s a slim chance Liam didn’t notice that.

“You can always stop this.” Liam’s eyes bore into mine as his index finger taps his thigh.

“Come on, Li. This is the best chance the Metropolitan Police have to investigate Le Salon up close and personal.”

“You’re doing this illegally.” He blows a frustrated breath. “You’ll never graduate if they find out you’ve gone undercover without permission. You can even be charged. I can’t believe you’re risking your future for this.”

“Guess we should never let them find out, huh?” I grin.

“Zoe.” His scowl holds a warning that makes criminals crack under his questioning.

“You promised to purge all these mafia wannabe arseholes. I’m helping out here.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “We already argued about this a thousand times. I just want to know that you’ll be there for me.”

“Of course I will.” His jaw clenches. “But there are rumours and reports about a new drug production factory. Whenever a new drug vein comes to light, gangster wars become nasty and knife crime increases.”

“It’s one more reason to stop them. I’ll do everything in me to bring the factory down.”

He taps his index finger on his thigh. “What can I do to make you change your mind?”

“Nothing. I had an interview and I was accepted into Le Salon. It’s already done.”

“If I suspect you’re in danger, I’ll report this. I don’t care if you have to be permanently suspended from the forces.”

“Fine.” But that will also mean he’ll be brought down as an accomplice. I’ll have to make sure I’m not in danger. I won’t have Liam pay for my choices. His job means the world to him.

He looks behind me and pauses. “Your new people are here.”

My eyes stray ahead as another group of people dressed in black approach where President Joe is sitting.

The leader of said group is a woman who looks no older than thirty. She’s wearing a long-sleeved tight green dress. Her flamboyant red hair is gathered in a French twist. On her left, there’s a younger man with model-like looks and a petite blonde hanging on his arm. On her right stands a taller man with dark, no-nonsense features.

Upon seeing them, President Joe stands and greets them with toothy smiles.

His rivals. His fighter is playing against theirs tonight.

The leader’s name is Mist. She’s the madam of Le Salon — an entertainment club that runs prostitution on the side. It’s also the facade to money laundering, drugs, and gambling.

They weren’t the leaders until two months or so ago when the original owner was caught for tax fraud. And, surprise, he’s got no ounce of criminal records because like President Joe, these people cover their mafia business with legal flowers.

This group and President Joe are two facets of the same coin. But an enemy of my enemy...

Liam thinks I’ll infiltrate Le Salon to bring its owners down. I might do that if I get the chance, but my main aim is to bring President Joe down through his rivals.

The newcomers sit beside President Joe, chatting and appearing amicable. In reality, they must be plotting each other’s downfall. The history of their rivalry goes back for decades.

The shouting rises in volume. I rip my gaze to the reason why the crowd’s going rampant.

A hulk of a man – no kidding, pretty sure he’s on steroids or something – saunters inside the ring. Even his dark chest muscles are glinting due to some lotion or sweat.

The fighter runs along the ring, snarling and showing off his muscles pumped by steroids. Fighter man points at President Joe who raises his glass in acknowledgement.

Of course such a show-off is one of President Joe’s people.

Guess who I’ll root for? Yeah. Not this guy.

For a few minutes, no one else comes out from where the fighters normally enter the ring. The audience murmur amongst each other, some with anticipation. Some with anxiousness.

Instead of the usual entrance, a man slips from between the rails and hops into the ring with athletic grace.

The crowd erupts in cheers like he’s a Hollywood actor.

The man is half-naked and big, but his muscles aren’t on steroids like mister show-off. He has striking full-sleeves of colourful tattoos. I’ve seen countless tattoos in our side of the town, but nothing as realistic and menacing as his. Chinese tigers wrap around his biceps and forearms, snarling in full 3D fashion.

Their owner, however, appears laid back. Curls of his dark blond hair fall haphazardly against his forehead like he couldn’t be bothered to comb it. An easy-going smirk lifts his lips and his light blue – or grey? – eyes glint with pure mischievousness. It’s like he’s out in the pub with the lads instead of a highly anticipated fight.