Clover twisted round in her chair to find Kit himself leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. It was like coming face to face with a tiger.

There was a long, uneasy silence.

‘Your promises don’t mean jack shit,’ he said finally. ‘I don’t need to explain myself to you.’

With a calmness she didn’t feel, Clover got up from her chair and walked halfway across the space to where he was leaning. Standing closer now, she was reminded of that first glimpse of him last night; he radiated an energy field that felt like a sonic pulse, causing everything within her, at an almost atomic level, to gather and press – and then drop. ‘. . . You’d be explaining yourself through me. Like I just said to Ari, this was never personal.’

‘Felt pretty damned personal from where I was standing.’

‘Then I’m sorry about that.’

His eyes narrowed. They were burning like wildfires; she could see the fury in him as he read her. ‘No you’re not. Don’t stand there and throw platitudes at me. You got yourself trophies on the back of destroying me. You made your name by trashing mine. And now you think you can undo what you did and save me?’ His voice was low, more like a growl. She could feel the bass in it reverberate in her own chest. ‘Fuck off,’ he said simply. ‘You’re the last person I’ll ever talk to.’

‘I honestly believe that would be a wasted opportunity for you.’

He looked at Ari. ‘Could I care less about what she believes?’ he asked him.

Ari didn’t reply. He looked like a man caught.

Clover cleared her throat, determined to keep her voice steady. ‘Your sponsor—’

‘Fuck him.’

‘But—’

Kit pinned her with a look that made her want to whimper. ‘Pack your bags. Get back on that plane. And get out of my face.’

Clover stared back at him, trying to think of the words that would calm him down.

‘I said go. Fuck off.’

‘Kit. Mate,’ Ari said in a placatory tone.

Clover looked at Ari, but it was clear he held no real power here. Kit was the sun around which they all revolved. She looked at Beau, who was sitting silent, his head hanging down and his elbows splayed, not meeting anyone’s eyes. She gave a small sigh and looked back at Kit. Clearly no one was going to stop him from throwing them out. ‘No.’

She felt the menace rise off him like a heat. Cory had often told her what it had felt like being in combat with Kit – he’s relentless, a street rat, he won’t ever surrender, he’ll die on his feet – but words couldn’t describe what it was like to finally be in his shadow. He had a range of weapons at his disposal – physicality, skill, intellect – to cow and intimidate.