a pair of small wooden tables either side of it, and a tiny shuttered window allowing only the thinnest sliver of sunlight to creep into the darkened room. She glanced at one of the tables in search of something to drink, her thirst was such now that she felt at the point of collapse, and was horrified to see that among the discarded empty bottles and wine glasses there was an assortment of sex toys; ugly, giant, life-like dildos staring back at her in an array of different shapes and sizes and colours. Rubbing her temples in angry frustration, she forced back tears as she desperately tried to locate her clothes, her bag, her phone, anything … And then she remembered; oh my God! Allegra! She was sure she had been with her friend the previous evening, but where the fuck was she now? And why was she here, in this room, naked and alone? It was as if someone had torn a page from her memory; it was all just a gaping black hole, and she had a gut-sickening feeling it wasn’t something she’d want to put on a postcard to her parents back home. Jesus, what the fuck had she done?
Burying her head despairingly in her hands, Tess heard voices approaching and instinctively threw herself back down onto the bed and feigned sleep.
‘Jesus, man,’ a male voice said. ‘She’s still sleeping … exactly how much of that shit did you give her last night?’
‘Too fucking much, probably,’ a gruff voice shot back. It sounded familiar, though she did not know why. ‘She’ll wake with one motherfucker of a headache, I can tell you that.’
‘And the rest …’
‘I told you I’d found us a wild one didn’t I?’ He sounded pleased with himself. ‘They’re all the same those posh chicks … filthy little bitches, up for anything. All that dough corrupts them you know … turns them from convent schoolgirls into game little whores. I have to say though; this one gave a pretty special performance last night.’
The pair of them gave a chuckle that made Tess want to throw up. She could sense their presence from underneath the thin bed sheet and could hardly breathe through her terror.
Don’t panic. Stay calm.
‘You think we’ll make top dollar on that video then … I mean, everyone loves to watch a good roasting don’t they …?’
Tears were escaping the corners of Tess’s eyes now. They’ll be gone in a minute she reassured herself. Then you can get your stuff and get the fuck out of here, fly home and forget any of this shit ever happened, right? Only she didn’t need to forget because she couldn’t actually remember in the first place, and judging by what she was hearing, it was probably just as well.
‘Nah, I’ve got something better in mind for this one,’ the familiar voice said. ‘I did some research, found out who she is …’
‘What, is she, like, famous or something?’
‘Her pops is none other than Vincent Scott my friend …’ the voice sounded triumphant.
‘Vincent Scott?’
‘Fuck me, Fabrizio, anyone would think you lived in a fucking cave under the sea. Vincent Scott … of Great Scott Properties,’ Tess heard the antagonism in his voice and it scared her. They knew her father’s name … this was bad; really fucking bad.
There was a slight pause.
‘And?’
‘And you fucking prick, he’s a billionaire. One of the richest dudes in the whole of fucking Europe!’
The other voice began to laugh then, a horrible manic chuckle that suggested the owner was a little unhinged.
‘Bingo!’ it said.
‘Bingo indeed my brother; bingo in-fucking-deed.’
CHAPTER 13
The tension inside the private poker longue at The Player was thick enough to cloud judgement.
‘I’m out,’ the cowboy said, flatly. ‘I fold.’ He slammed his glass down onto the table, causing the ice inside to crack in objection. Howard Stanley shook his head and quickly followed suit, abandoning his cards with reluctance as he looked over at Tom Black and the two remaining players, Willy Grey and the Japanese businessman who, flanked by two burly minders, looked as if he had more money than sense and would probably need a generous slice of both before the night was over.
‘How about you, Willy?’ Tom remarked, deadpan, his poker face an expressionless blank as he made eye contact with the old man opposite.
Willy returned his stare, his left eye twitching.
He eventually nodded after a long moment’s pause. ‘And I’ll raise you another million,’ he casually added, pushing a pile of neatly stacked burgundy chips across the table towards the dealer.
‘That’s three million in the pot,’ the dealer announced without emotion, accustomed to hearing such high numbers; it was all in a day’s work for him.
Willy Grey carefully peeled back the corners of his cards, only briefly breaking eye contact with Tom. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than screwing Tom Black to the wall tonight.
Candy rubbed the inside of Tom’s thigh from underneath the table. At his insistence she had worn a long bubblegum pink sequinned Cavalli dress with a plunging neckline that stopped at the navel, displaying her enhanced young breasts like a pair of perfectly round globes. It had been a calculated choice of attire, aimed at distracting his fellow players, and one that seemed to be working its magic this evening to great effect.
She took a tentative sip of her Dirty Martini cocktail, her sixth and counting, and played with the diamonds around her neck seductively.
‘We win big tonight baby and you get to keep the lot,’ Tom had promised her as he’d fastened the delicate clasp of the Graff pink and yellow diamond waterfall necklace around her slim neck earlier that evening. ‘I want you to dazzle ’em tonight,’ he had instructed. ‘Smile and flirt, make like you’re available …’
‘Jeez, I ain’t no hooker …’ she’d pouted.
‘It’s just a game, baby,’ he’d reassured her, kissing the back of her creamy neck, giving her goose bumps. ‘It’s all about distraction … if those guys start thinking about their dicks, it means they ain’t thinking about the game, you get me?’
Candy had responded with a conspiratorial giggle. Frankly, she’d be prepared to do anything if it meant keeping hold of all this awesome bling.
Tom looked down at his cards as the tension in the room escalated.
‘I gotta go pee,’ Candy stated a little too loudly, her caustic LA twang breaking the tension.
‘I dunno why you bring broads to the table, Tom,’ Willy gave him a wry smile, once Candy was out of earshot. ‘You know what they say about women and poker …’
Tom raised an eyebrow.
‘Call,’ he said in response, stacking his burgundy chips in a tall pile and carefully placing two blue gaming cheques on the top ‘… and I’ll raise you another million …’ he paused, ‘no, you know, what?’ he signalled to the dealer, ‘make it two.’
The room fell silent but for the sound of the oscillating fan churning above them. Tom’s raise had just taken the game into new territory.
‘That should just about cover the girl’s agency fees for tonight, eh Tom?’ the sarcasm dripped from Willy Grey’s voice, his left eye twitching manically.
Tom remained silent. True to his name, Willy Grey was always trying to get a rise out of people.
‘Your old man was the same, Tom,’ Willy surmised, as his left eye went into some kind of spasm. It was an affliction he’d had since his teenage years and it still drove him fucking nuts. ‘He was a good hustler, all flash suits and Cartier cufflinks, much like yourself, but