Page 44 of Revenge

Seven

Kai

The next day, I left Nico in charge at the house, having outlined my plans for Ava and her mother that day. At my request, he engaged the services of a mobile spa specialist. The company I used regularly serviced women within the organisation; they were professional, loyal, and most importantly trustworthy.

My reasoning hadnothingto do with being a nice guy, I had an ulterior motive. IwantedAva and her mother to bond again. It would make her less flighty and take her mind off being housebound. There was always a method to my madness, it was never about generosity.

I had also asked Nico to download the first season of Sex and the City, a shite American TV show that Ava used to watch incessantly. It was set up in the cinema room of the house and hopefully, Ava and her mother would enjoy watching it together and would be distracted. My plan wasn’t entirely self-serving, there was an olive branchsomewherein that offer.

Nico hadn’t appreciated being left at the house tobabysit, as he had called it. He was my friend and my second but fuck me the guy loved to bitch and moan. So, what, he had to stay at the house for one day; cry me a fucking river.

I had taken Cillian with me as I needed a man with less of a conscience. Nico appeared to have taken a liking to our prisoner. I now had Anton Quinn in the basement of my casino for questioning.

Club Pacino was named after one of the best actors of all time. And the fact that he’d played various hefty mafia roles during his career amused me. Almost like a fuck you to the authorities. They turned up occasionally but my place hadneverbeen raided, I ran a tight ship and never gave them any excuse to ransack it.

Pacino’s was located on the outskirts of Hammersmith and overlooked the Thames. The building was a purpose-built three-story unit and was sleek and understated. There were no huge garish signs like the Vegas Strip. My place was low-key for a reason and strictly members only.

A wrap-around car park was available for customers and the parking arrangements were valet. It made it easier to impound a customer's Porche if they attempted to take off without straightening their shit with the house.

The front entrance of the building led into a brightly lit lobby with burgundy carpeted floors, chandeliers, and wood panelling on the walls. The décor was traditional and what you would expect in a luxury establishment. A section with slot machines was on one side of the centralised bar and on the other, were double doors that led into the gaming room. That was the place forseriousgamblers, where table service was available. Customers leaving a game to visit the bar meant less money was lost, so the attractive serving staff ensured no interruptions.

Poker rooms were also available for private, smaller games. I frequented those regularly as Poker was my game of choice.

At the back of the casino was a small nightclub; where guests could drown their sorrows after a frustrating losing streak. A private bar was available as was a range of fine cuisine food. I ate there regularly, Alexandro, my Head Chef had run several Michelin-star restaurants in the heart of London before joining my staff the previous year. The food there was excellent, anyone who disagreed with that was usually escorted from the building, head first.

The dancefloor was surrounded by circular tables and booths for those who preferred more privacy and behind the bar was the red room. Only guests with platinum membership were allowed back there to enjoy the dancers. I used the term dancers as the word strippers was degrading towards women. The ladies I employed were excellent at what they did and knew how to work a pole to entice whilst remaining strictly professional. I paid well, and never sexually exploited the women, it just wasn’t in my DNA.

The most important part of the building, hence the reason I had commissioned a purpose-built design wasbeneaththe nightclub.

The basement.

That is where I kept an office and two interrogation rooms; one nice, one not so nice. The noise and music from the club above provided the perfect cover to muffle screams. Those pleading types of cries that men made when they were sorry for fucking up. Guilty men who had it coming. If you were innocent, you had nothing to fear from me. You crossed me, you fucking paid for it.

You could access the basement through the club or a secret entrance at the back of the building. Having rear access was essential when transporting bodies in and out and having the Thames so close by was a plus for obvious reasons.

Dead bodies were pulled from that rivereveryyear, with police statistics suggesting that most cases were due to suicide. I knew my family were more than guilty of adding to those numbers.

Pushing back against the seat, I pulled my gaze away from the passing countryside. I was going to see my father before I visited the club.

My phone vibrated and I slid it from my pocket to see I had a message from Nico, replying to my earlier text asking how it was going at the house.

Well, one thing led to another and now my skin feels divine.

What the fuck does that mean?I thumbed in. Nico could be such a cryptic motherfucker at times.

The girls forced me to get a facial.I smiled down at the screen. Nobody could force Nico into doing anything he didn’t want to do. He was a stubborn sod. He’d probably enjoyed it, Nico loved to preen himself and always had product in his hair. I didn’t blame that on his sexual orientation; Nico was a proud, gay man and was the least camp person I knew.He just liked to look nice, he’d told me.

Nic would still hate watching over two women but he would do a good job. Ava and Nico used to get along well, but not in a ‘Beard’ way. As I said, Nico was proud of who he was and never hid his sexuality. He was the one she’d slag me off to and had been there for her during those times I’d been a dick to her. He’d always told me what she said, Nico knew where his loyalties were.

Nice. And you say I always give you the shit jobs.I replied.

Fuck you.

Chuckling, I pushed my phone away, thoughts of my looming visit with Gerard suddenly plaguing me. I hadn’t visited my old man for a while. There had been too much heat on me after we got him out of prison.

During the shitstorm that followed his arrest, I had also unearthed several business deals of my Da’s that I wasn’t comfortable with; shadier than the usual shady.

In the months that led up to his arrest, Gerard had stuck his fingers in pies that were beyond morally grey. One of them included the disappearance of the wife of a diplomate. Diplomates were protected people and so we usually stayed away, the risk was too great. The man’s wife had disappeared from her hotel room, one she had been sharing with her husband and their two kids. Kids FFS! The whole thing left a sour taste in my mouth.

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