Dealing in Undertown

The White Queen thought of the Schoolboy as a brainless pugilist, a bully in blazer and tie, but she couldn’t ignore him. He owned half the North Side. A problem, because he’d taken most of it from her.

She didn’t have the muscle to go straight at him – he’d broken the very stone of that last rook – so here she was, in Undertown, with Mister Quick.

“No one can know I’m involved.”

“They won’t.” Quick’s voice was low and sweet, like a cello.

As she left, he winked at her, grinning a slow grin. It crept across her like frost.

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