Piers Delano was furious. He was, as Claude would have said, Hopping Mad. And that, for the young mob Boss, was an unusual occurrence.

His normally cool demeanour had vanished, and he was puffing away on a cigarette furiously as he stared out at the dark night slipping away outside his tinted window.

The cars in his cavalcade shot across the countryside, but he was oblivious to anything but the thoughts swirling around in his head.

He adored his mother, much more than he respected his father. And that was the simple truth. He would lay his life down to keep Mumma safe. And happy.

All during his growing years,...