Alexi pats his shoulder coolly, in an over-friendly way, harshly enough that he knocks him over slightly and smooths down the little imp’s jacket with a calm demeanour. No hints of the veiled psycho he just spat out at this man now.

‘Nice suit … My driver has one just like it.’ He smiles at him evilly, overkill of nice tone, another slap on the shoulder that sends Tyler reeling sideways to scarper out of the way properly. Alexi towers over him by more than a head and makes him look like the weaselly little shithead he is.

‘Yeah, thanks, Mr Carrero.’ Tyler starts trying to get away by pressing...