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it.

Zaroff began to laugh. He was so clever. He’d just come up with the perfect plan.

‘Can you believe this freakin’ place?’ Gus said, as he and Michael climbed the ornate staircase.

Michael shook his head. His palms were sweating and he felt short of breath. This wasn’t the kind of thing he knew how to do any more. As bad as they were, was he honestly going to be able to take out his gun and shoot Mamie and Bone?

Gus had told him that, if he wanted, he could have people do it for him.

Could he stand there and watch?

Was he the same Michael Castellino who’d shot Roy in the park so long ago? Or was he a different person now?

He didn’t know. He’d soon find out.

Vincent and Jolie headed into the bedroom. There was no chance of Jenna walking in on them. She was trapped at the Mirage. There was no chance of Nando finding them either, he was with his two new business partners.

‘I’ve always felt this way about you,’ Jolie said, putting her arms round him and kissing him on the mouth with her soft, provocative lips.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’

‘Stop it, Vincent,’ she scolded softly. ‘We’re both beyond the point of saying no any more. This thing has been building between us for years.’

She was right. He was hard and she was ready.

So why was he suddenly developing a conscience?

Pig shit. Yeah, that’s what his uncle had called him. He’d show him who was pig shit.

How many men had Uncle Serge killed? One? Two? None? Fuck him! It was time Zaroff took control of the Gorban family.

He told his two cohorts to keep looking for the girl. ‘When you find her, tie her up and shove her in the trunk of the car,’ he said. ‘We’re taking her.’

‘Where?’ asked the driver.

‘We’ll take her to the warehouse. The one Ace lives at.’

‘Where you goin’?’ they asked.

‘I’m collectin’ the fuckin’ money Serge owes me. Then we’re outta here. Go find the girl,’ he said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small glass vial of coke. There was still some left. He shook the white powder on to the back of his hand and snorted it. Jesus, he’d done a lot of drugs tonight.

So what? He could handle it. He could handle anything and anyone.

He ran back towards the house. The big gates were still open, the Cadillac parked nearby.

He knew where the guardhouse was on account of the maintenance work he’d done at the house, helping Uncle Serge like a good little boy, getting ten bucks an hour if he was fucking lucky.

The guardhouse was empty. Nobody around.

As he headed up the driveway, a man stepped out of the bushes. ‘Stop!’ the man said.

Zaroff lifted his Uzi and sprayed him.

Christ! The feeling of power that surged through his body gave him such a high. Or was it the drugs?

He kept walking. There were two dogs lying out in front of the house. It looked like they were asleep because they didn’t move. Lucky for them, he would have shot them too.

The front door was open. He walked through it and stepped into the foyer.

Michael and Gus, followed by three of Gus’s men, entered the master bedroom. The sight that greeted them was not a pretty one.

Standing there in his red silk robe, his dick hanging out, was Bone. Mamie was across the room from him–a sorry sight in a man’s suit, a riding whip in her hand. A young blonde girl was sitting on a chair fully dressed, while another, totally naked, was lying sprawled on the floor.

‘Nice,’ Michael said.

Mamie’s face registered pure shock. ‘How did you get into my house?’ she screamed. ‘What are you doing here, you murderer?’

Tawny shrank back in her chair.

‘Retribution,’ Michael said. ‘Isn’t that what your husband taught me? Isn’t that what you always wanted, Mamie? Revenge?’

‘You’d better get out of here now, or I’m calling the police,’ she threatened.

‘Lines are dead. But go ahead.’

‘You no good scum-sucking bastard,’ she screamed, her face contorted with rage. ‘You’re just like your stinkin’ father, Vinny. I hate you. I FUCKIN’ HATE YOU!’

Zaroff burst into the bedroom, murder in his crazed eyes.

He was flying on coke, grass and Ecstasy. He was filled with power, sure that he could conquer the world.

What kind of game was going on in here with Mr and Mrs Porno? He barely noticed Michael and Gus as he focused on the naked girl on the floor. And in spite of his drugged-out haze, he felt the stirrings of a hard-on. He hadn’t got laid in twenty-four hours, and Zaroff needed sex. He needed it more than he needed food and his mother’s bitching and his dumb uncle telling him what he could and could not do.

He was The Man. He could do whatever he wanted.

Michael took a step back. The boy, who couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen, had an Uzi and a trace of white powder under his nose. Not a healthy combination. He was the wild card that nobody had taken into account. There was always a wild card.

Mamie stopped screaming at Michael, turning her attention to the boy.

‘Who the—’ she began to say.

‘Mothafuckers!’ Zaroff yelled, raising the Uzi. ‘Rich mothafuckers!’ And he began spraying the room.

After that everything seemed to take place in slow motion, like some carefully choreographed intricate dance. Zaroff spraying the room. Two of Gus’s men bursting in and tackling him from behind. The Uzi flying out of his hands. Too late for Mamie and Bone. They were both hit. Mamie in the face and heart. Bone in the stomach.

It was a fitting end for the two of them.

Michael turned and walked away.

It was over, and he hadn’t had to do a thing.

Epilogue

Zaroff Gorban was arrested for multiple murders, including the killings of Mamie and Bone. His Uncle Serge was also arrested for possession of an unlicensed weapon–the Uzi. And for assisting

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