Alfie was in a foul mood and everyone knew to stay away and shut up. Even Ollie, who was used to Alfie's horrific temper and mostly unaffected by his ranting and raving, was afraid. Alfie was getting nowhere at finding out what had happened to his men who were meant to have been guarding Niamh and the house the previous night, and he still hadn't heard a peep from his lads up in Liverpool. The ones who he had sent to follow up after them had been in contact to say the trail had run cold, and Alfie's threat that if they returned without any news he'd chop their bollocks off was enough to frighten them into making sure they definitely left no stone unturned.

Alfie wasn't a man prone to panic. The word had never existed in his vocabulary before, but now panicking he was. Panicking that he had finally come across someone he couldn't get the upper hand on, and it wasn't himself that he cared about but rather it was Niamh. He was terrified Janowicz was going to use her against him and he wasn't going to be able to stop him. And he just couldn't for the fucking life of him understand how Janowicz had been able to do what he had without being stopped.

"Erm Alfie," Ollie murmured nervously. "This just came for you."

"What is it?" he growled, snatching the letter Ollie was holding out with a trembling hand, and the second Alfie saw the writing on the envelope his stomach dropped. He tore it open without hesitation.

Mr Solomons,

It's an awfully terrible world when you can't even trust your own men to stay loyal to you, isn't it? But as you so eloquently explained to me during our last meeting; our young men can be anything they want. And your men were more than happy to shift their allegiance to another of their own kind who offered them more than you, and become an integral part of who I am and what I do. You see, I am more than you will ever be and I shall ensure you are destroyed piece by piece before I finally end you.

I might save that wife of yours though seeing as she's not only leverage against her pikey family but she's also easy on the eyes isn't she. I'll be interested to see if I can get the sounds out of her that you do. Time will tell.

Yours,

Janowicz.

The deafening silence, disturbed only by the clench of Alfie's jaw and his heavy breathing, was enough to make Ollie back towards the door in anticipation of the explosion that was undoubtedly on its way.

"That fuckin' fucker!" Alfie roared, flinging the contents of his desk on the floor, his chair falling with a bang as he stood angrily. He tore his office apart in a rabid temper; screaming and shouting and roaring and hitting and throwing anything in sight until it looked like a storm had torn through the room and he was left red faced and panting heavily. "He got to 'em, Ollie," he croaked, holding out the letter to his faithful assistant. "He fuckin' got to 'em. And now I'm left wonderin' who I can trust?" he snarled suddenly, pushing Ollie against the door and gripping him by the face, grabbing his gun and holding it to Ollie's head as the younger man's eyes widened in horror.

"Alfie, I would never-" Ollie began only to be cut off by a slam to the back of the head against the oak wood of the door.

"That's what they all say, Ollie, aint it?" Alfie spat, his eyes frenzied and wild. "But how do I know you aint one of his now an' not one of mine?"

"Because it's me, Alfie. I would never do that, you know I wouldn't," Ollie answered desperately. "You're not just my boss, you're like family and I would never betray you like that. My kids are your godchildren for crying out loud! I'd never betray you! And I'd never betray Niamh like that either. Karina'd have my fucking balls, Alfie and you know she would!"

Alfie narrowed his eyes, peering into Ollie's with unwavering intensity and seeing nothing in his assistant's eyes that spoke of anything other than the truth. Sighing, he lowered the gun.

"She's already got your fuckin' balls, mate," he muttered, shoving him gently out of the way and storming out of the door and down the stairs.

Once again, he needed to get to Niamh because he couldn't trust her with anyone. Not now.

… … … …

Niamh was in the kitchen when the front door opened with a slam and a load of commotion sounded in the hallway. The young man who had been one of her bodyguards all day was just downing the last of the tea she had made him and his face fell as Alfie came at him like a charging bull, tackling him to the ground and punching ten tonnes of shit out of his face without even a word.

"Alfie!" Niamh screamed, trying to pull him off, not even noticing the blood splattering all over herself and Alfie and the kitchen floor. "Alfie, what the fuck are you doing?!"

Alfie was like a wild animal. When Niamh would reflect upon it later, she would realise that he reminded her exactly of Arthur when he snapped. It was aweing yet utterly terrifying and it was a side of Alfie that she knew existed but she had yet to witness first hand. So shocked by what was happening, she clawed at Alfie's arm and his back and anything she could reach in a vain attempt to make him stop but he was frenzied and he was unhinged.

Vaguely aware of Ollie being the one to take hold of her gently and lead her away from the scene, she dug in her heels and could do nothing but watch with morbid fascination as it took four men to drag Alfie off of the young man, who had only moments before been telling Niamh of his plan to propose to his girlfriend that night at dinner. That young man was now dead on her kitchen floor with his face caved in, and Niamh turned and vomited out the contents of her stomach all over Ollie's shoes.

She wasn't unaccustomed to violence, not growing up in a family like hers, but even when she had seen Arthur let loose on someone she had been dragged away before she was able to see the aftermath. Her family had done their best to shield her from anything like that and perhaps if they hadn't done so she would have been standing looking at the current situation with the same impassiveness as the rest of the men.

"Which one of you is it?" Alfie roared, fighting against his human restraints, his eyes bulging with a wild fury, face red as a beetroot and spittle flying with his mouth as he directed his anger now to the rest of his men. "Which one of your fuckers are workin' for him now?! Maybe it's all of you?! Fuckin' tell me!"

"Come on Niamh," Ollie murmured gently. "Let me take you into the other room."

Listening to Alfie's ramblings and screaming, Niamh didn't even have it in her to argue with Ollie, and with tears streaming down her cheeks she allowed him to lead her into the living room. Ollie sat her down on the sofa, eyeing her with sympathy as he poured a glass of whiskey from the decanter on the sideboard and handed it to her, watching as she downed it almost all in one huge gulp before letting out a shaky breath.

"He came in to use the toilet and I made him a cup of tea," Niamh mumbled dully, her eyes staring at the glass in her hand. "He was just having something to drink, Ollie. He didn't do anything wrong."

Ollie didn't answer. He couldn't answer because he didn't know how he was supposed to explain Alfie's outburst to Niamh without explaining to her what was going on with Janowicz.

"I want to go home, Ollie," she choked out a sob.

"You are home, Niamh," he frowned.

"No," she shook her head and swallowed. "I don't think I am anymore."