It wasn’t that I doubted his abilities, especially after Callie had spent a fair proportion of our night together singing his praises. J this and J that. As somebody Callie valued so highly, I didn’t expect Jon to be anything else but on top of his game. But that wasn’t going to stop me from making my own arrangements too. I had a few contacts of my own I could call upon.

And, if Jon didn’t deliver, then Jarvis would. Even with his demotion, he was still my eyes and ears within Eva’s organization. What was once Dan’s was now all hers – or so she thought. She’d declared herself Dan’s successor, with Shane and the rest of Dan’s old crew backing her all the way. What had she promised them to buy their loyalty? Their own operations? Had she carved up the country like a Sunday roast and promised them all a slice? Eva would soon discover that it took more than a proclamation to wear Dan’s old crown. Owen Dowd would be making his move, and soon, to take over all of Eva’s territory and then she’d have a gang war on her hands. But let her enjoy her moment in the sun. It wouldn’t last long.

Bollocks to this!

I opened my front door. ‘Deli, I want to go for a run. An hour will do it. Please inform Michael downstairs that he’ll be joining us.’

Deli raised her eyebrows. ‘Sir, is that wise?’

‘It’s run or lose my damned mind.’

‘Yes, sir.’

There was no more to be said.

A quick change into my running gear and, a couple of minutes later, I was travelling down in the lift with Deli. Michael was front and centre the moment the lift door opened, running shoes already on his feet. A quick nod to acknowledge him, then we headed for the exit. But the moment I stepped out of my apartment building I was met with a barrage of flashing lights and waving mics in my face. Had my super-injunction been overturned? My heart thrashing against my ribs, I headed down the steps with my protection officers at my side, a plastic smile sitting uneasily on my lips. The reporters moved with me, making it hard to get past them. I was surrounded.

‘Prime Minister, is it true that you were once a member of Nought Forever?’

What the actual hell? My mouth fell open before I quickly pasted on a more neutral expression.

‘Prime Minister, do you, in fact, have a tattoo on your chest that reads Nought Forever?’

Hellsake!

‘Are you now or have you ever been a member of the terrorist NF?’