Lucien

Schwartz burst out of his study, racing to Lucien. The Mafia Boss had just managed to lull the little girl to sleep. It was four in the morning and Beatrice had sent in a large thermos of coffee and some cookies to the war room.

He looked at his friend, as Schwartz said urgently,

‘Lord, Tristan Lord is on the phone!’

Lucien raced into the study, grabbing the phone.

The younger man's voice, charged with excitement, came over the line, over the ...