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revolution. Descendent of some former dynasty. Very old money, not exactly clean. Nadir carried on the family tradition of his mother’s people with his two brothers Solomon and Javid. They are utterly ruthless, but cunning. Their legitimate companies hide the less savory dealings.”
    “Like you and Dieter,” Alicia provided. She wasn’t a fool; she knew who her daughter had married just like she knew the man she was inexorably linked to. The criminal world often began and ended in so-called respectable centers of power.
    “Once upon a time.” Claus nodded. “We’ve moved away from most things. As soon as this is taken care of, there will be no more shadows for us. Only sunlight. I owe that to you.”
    And just like that, she had a serious case of the warm and fuzzies even in the face of the daunting task of appeasing this Nadir person. The man wouldn’t give a damn that Deja was her daughter, or that Deja was now married to someone who truly loved and cherished her. All that mattered was his investment. Claus’ concerns meant this Nadir would be unimpressed Deja belonged to Dieter von Blucher.
    “Do you think he’ll expect all the funds he invested plus interest?” Most would, but she’d only seen deals at Grgur’s level. Mid-level at best. Of course she’d heard of the dealing with real players. Such men and women never accepted less than what was promised.
    “No.” Claus didn’t even try to sugarcoat the situation. “Which is why I would prefer you stayed at the hotel.”
    “Not happening,” she shot back. No more hiding, no more cowering. They would think of something, together.
    “Didn’t think so.” This time Claus’ smile was genuine, full of pride and approval. Alicia couldn’t help but preen just a little. “We will find a way,” he said with absolute conviction, and she believed him. “There is no other option.”

Chapter Eight
     
    Nadir was a predator, as were most men in his position. On some level, Claus was one himself, as was Dieter. The prey was different for each, but the end results were much the same. Whereas Deiter and Claus’ end game had been for wealth and position, so as never to return to the slums from which they clawed their way out, Claus couldn’t begin to guess at Nadir’s.
    Swathed in old-world respectability, elegance and good looks as he was, there was nothing behind the man’s pale green eyes that would suggest he had a soul. Not much could unnerve Claus, but Nadir was one of very few things on earth that made him uncomfortable. Whereas Claus had mastered the art of suppressing emotion, he seriously doubted Nadir ever had any. Looking at the man was kind of like looking at an animated dead man.
    There were few things worse than dealing with someone with nothing to lose. Dealing with someone with nothing to lose and nothing to gain was one. As was dealing with an unrepentant liar who had no need to lie; a master manipulator who didn’t bother with manipulative tricks. One way or another, they had to find a way to atone to a man who by reputation could not be appeased.
    There were a thousand reasons not to allow Alicia to venture into the Goutte D’Or neighborhood. The district may have been famous for such wondrous sites as the Sacré Cœur basilica and the Moulin Rouge, but it had become an area inhabited by immigrants from Africa. The streets were rich in exotic scents, people in bright traditional African clothing or chic Parisian ware in a myriad of rich colors echoing a cacophony of languages. On its face, it was an odd setting for Nadir, given his ancestry of French and ancient Persian nobility.
    For reasons known only to the man himself, this was Nadir’s home as well as his base of operations. He’d taken over a large city block, dominated by one building that was, in essence, his fortress. Located smack in the middle of one of the place’s busiest streets, just two blocks over from the open market, the Afshar-Nadir building blended with the