Now he was convinced that his daughter had done him a favour by getting her claws into Petey Bailey. She’d just better make sure she kept them there. Michael was well aware that Petey’s main attraction to Bernadette was that she looked extremely fuckable, but was still intact. He understood Petey’s reasoning; in the Life there were far too many females who were willing to drop their kecks for a Face. It was half the fun really.

Michael had been against the drugs trade, seeing it as a fucking mug’s game, but now he couldn’t fault it. For the first time in his life, he was on a serious earn, and being treated with the respect he had always craved. That was the real clincher for him. He understood that he was no more than a front for the operation, and that suited him; he had no real idea what the economics of the situation actually entailed, nor did he want to know.

The only bugbear was the Allens; they were not so happy about the reversals in fortunes. He was aware that there might be a retaliation of sorts, if not now then in the future. They were not men to swallow a blatant piss-take, and that was exactly what this was.

The Baileys were untouchable; the Allens might feel the urge to punish them, but they would not have the guts. He was a different story – an easier target. Because of that he was keeping an eye on them; if his incarcerations had taught him nothing else they had taught him the value of knowing your enemy. You couldn’t survive for any length of time in top-security jails without learning a little bit about guerrilla warfare, and how to keep yourself safe in the most extreme of violent environments.

He only felt secure in his new position because he was watching them all, and none of them gave him credit for having the brains to do that. Another lesson that prison taught you was to never trust anybody. Such was the downside of the Life; too many people vying for the top and no one willing to step away without a fight. It was the way of the world – their world anyway.

As he lit himself an expensive cigar, Michael was feeling very satisfied; he had all the angles covered. But he would not let himself relax too much; after all, his daughter still had to walk that fucker up the aisle and, until she had pulled that off, his position was precarious to say the least.

Chapter One Hundred and Nine

‘I want to make sure we know what the fuck is going on around us, and I also want to make sure that we are not paying you for a fucking laugh.’