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woman who was at least fifty years her junior, while Bone continued to watch.

The Cadillac took a sharp turn off the Santa Monica freeway and headed up to Sunset. The three men in the car were happy. Stoned, actually. They saw an end to their job and payment in their pockets.

Madison’s mind was running on overdrive. She had to figure out some kind of escape move. But what? Throw herself out of the car and risk being killed? Put up a fight? Or…talk herself out of it? She’d always been good at that.

‘How much are you getting paid?’ she asked.

‘To kill people?’ her gunman singsonged. ‘We do that for nothin’ it’s sweet, y’know.’

‘I’ll double whatever you’re getting paid if you let me go.’

‘Why’d we do that?’

‘Why do you do anything? For money, of course.’

‘How much money?’

‘You tell me.’

‘Fifty thou’.’

‘Okay.’

‘Where you gonna get money like that?’

‘Let me go and I’ll get it.’

‘Sheeit!’ he sneered. ‘You think I’m stupid?’

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘Actually, I think you’re quite smart.’

‘Forget it, lady. We’re almost there.’

Serge Gorban checked his watch. It was an old one he’d bought in Moscow many years ago, and sometimes it ran slow.

Not that slow. His idiot nephew should have been here hours ago. He’d given him a simple task to perform, and somehow Zaroff had managed to screw it up, just as he managed to screw up most things.

Serge realized that he should never have listened to his pathetic, whining sister, who had begged him to give Zaroff another chance after the boy’s last disaster.

But listen he had, and now where was the fool?

Never send a boy to do a man’s job.

Any second now, when the whores left the estate, Bone or Mamie would be calling him in the guardhouse, making sure that everything was taken care of.

Why had he trusted that no-good nephew of his? The out-of-work loser was nothing but trouble.

They were in his penthouse, still in the living room, but soon heading for the bedroom. Jolie was coming on to him big-time, and Vincent wasn’t in the mood to resist.

‘I like you, Vincent, I always have,’ she murmured.

His problems with Jenna tonight were all Nando’s fault: if Nando hadn’t insisted on Andy Dale joining them, none of this would have happened. Now, on top of everything else, Nando was meeting with Leroy Fortuno and Darren Simmons behind his back. Yes, Nando had definitely gone too far this time.

‘I always felt it should’ve been you and me,’ Jolie purred, all soft skin and glowing, catlike, amber eyes.

‘Nando’s my brother,’ Vincent said, his resolve weakening slowly. Resisting Jolie was getting harder by the minute. He’d always had an eye for her. She was smooth and sexy and sophisticated. Plus she was a woman, unlike Jenna, who was still a girl.

‘I know,’ Jolie murmured softly. ‘Only sometimes brothers have to part ways. And maybe the time has come…’

He was still mesmerized by her lips. Such soft, pouting, inviting lips.

Was one kiss such a bad thing? After all, Jenna had run out on him, and Nando was busy making deals elsewhere.

One kiss…

His cellphone rang.

‘Don’t answer it,’ Jolie said, her voice a silky whisper. ‘We have more important things to do.’

Gus’s black limousine with its dark, tinted windows, followed by a large black Suburban, headed up into the hills. Michael felt as if he was part of a funeral procession. And, in a way, that’s exactly what it was. Welcome to the funeral of Mamie and Bone.

Gus did not do things on a small scale. He was from the old school of how to get things done. There were quite a few men packed into the Suburban. Men ready to deal with anything or anyone who got in their way. Among them was a dog wrangler, who would take care of the Dobermans.

Michael’s only worry was Madison. He knew Vincent could take care of Dani and himself. Sofia was in Europe. So it was only Madison he was concerned about.

Madison. His beautiful, smart daughter who was barely speaking to him, and he didn’t blame her. He’d allowed her to live a lie, and that wasn’t fair.

He made a solemn vow that in the future he would make it up to her. And he’d make it up to Dani, too, the woman who’d stood by him through everything.

But first he had to take care of these two maggots. Because if he didn’t…

The Cadillac turned off Sunset and sped up into Bel Air, the road twisting and turning all the way to the top.

Madison didn’t know what to think. Bel Air of all places. What were they doing there?

She went to look at her watch, realized they’d stolen it, and tried to figure out what time it was. One a.m? Two? She had no clue.

Suddenly the car slowed down and came to a stop in front of a pair of ornate wrought-iron gates.

‘What I do?’ the driver asked.

‘Ring the fuckin’ buzzer. Tell Serge we’re here.’

They were all so stoned now that no one seemed to notice names were flying. Madison made a mental note of all of them. Ace, from earlier. Now Serge. And finally a name for her gunman, her psycho killer. Zar–short for? She’d find out.

‘Zarren?’ she said to him, as if she were about to ask a question.

‘Zaroff,’ he slurred.

‘Press the fuckin’ buzzer,’ the one in the front passenger seat said, leaning across the driver to do it for him.

She wondered if this was the time to make a run for it. The car was stationary, the music too loud for clear thought. Besides, the three of them were so out of it they probably wouldn’t even notice.

She decided to do it. Take a risk and go.

She glanced quickly at Zaroff. The Uzi was on the floor of the car between his feet. His other gun was stuffed into the belt of his pants.

Goodbye, suckers. I’m out of here.

And she lunged at the door, wrenched it open, threw herself out and began running.

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