Rival

by Jacqui Rose

  Interrupting, Tia snapped, ‘That’s crap, Harry – what you did, I hate you for it, so don’t try to pretend you were there for me. We both know the truth.’

  ‘There you go again, Tia, always pointing the finger at somebody else instead of taking a long hard look at yourself in the mirror. Isn’t losing the kids enough for you for one day?’

  Without thinking, Tia swung her hand in the direction of Harry’s smug smile but he grabbed it and roared with laughter. ‘I love it when you get angry; it gives me a real hard on. What do you say to giving me a quick blow job?’

  The tears that had been threatening to escape again cascaded down her cheeks like a sudden cloud burst. ‘I’m just a game to you, ain’t I? Just leave me alone, Harry. You heard what the judge said, you’ve got what you wanted.’

  Softening his face but hardening his eyes, Harry came to a standstill in front of a blacked-out Range Rover. Unlovingly he kissed her on the cheek. ‘If you want the kids, Tia, you can have them. After all you’re their mum.’

  Tia stared up at Harry. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me, you can have them.’

  With her heart beginning to race, Tia blinked away the last of her tears. ‘Don’t play with me, Harry. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it … They’re everything to me, you know that.’

  He smiled, lighting up his handsome face. ‘I know, darlin’, that’s why I’m saying it. I just wanted to teach you a lesson, show you you went about it all the wrong way.’

  Shaking, Tia nodded. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what else to do.’

  Harry smiled, opening the Range Rover door. ‘Good, well I’m glad we got that sorted out … Come on, get in.’

  As quickly as Tia’s smile had appeared, it went. ‘What? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Home. Let’s go home.’

  ‘But …’

  Harry sniffed, his blue eyes narrowing. ‘You want the kids don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but …’

  He smiled at her, showing off his perfect teeth. ‘We all come as one big happy family, Tia, you should know that by now. You want the kids, then you come home.’

  Tia stood and watched her husband get in the passenger seat of the car. Her head was telling her to turn around and walk the other way, but her heart – the part that counted – was moving her feet in the same direction as her husband. This was another chance, a chance to be with her children once again and her love for them was greater than anything.

  She’d tried to battle her husband and it’d taken everything out of her in doing so. Now she supposed it was time to concede; Harry Jacobs had won … For now anyway, because as she’d thought so many times in the past, he’d left her no choice; one day, she was going to pay him back. Oh yes, Harry would get his comeuppance all right even if she had to kill him herself. For now though, she’d play the game. If being a player was good enough for Harry, it was good enough for her.

  And with the tears streaming down her face, Tia, having made up her mind, slid slowly into the back passenger seat but immediately froze as she stared at the driver whilst Harry spoke. ‘Ain’t you going to say hello, Tia? You know Vaughn, don’t you?’

  With a tight smile, Tia nodded as she stared out of the window. She knew Vaughn Sadler all right, the problem was, she knew him too well.

  2

  ‘Franny! Franny! We need your help! Quick, please, you’ve got to come!’

  Putting down her phone on the side, Franny Doyle looked up at Sasha – who was no older than eighteen – standing shaking in the doorway, her face pale and drawn.

  Shocked at how upset Sasha was, Franny spoke, concern in her voice. ‘What’s happened, darlin’?’

  The girl shrugged, wiping the tears from her face. ‘I dunno really but Sophie’s ill. She’s vomiting. She was snorting some lines and then she just started convulsing.’

  Without saying anything else, Franny nodded and jumped up, hurrying out of the office on the top floor of Foxy’s nightclub in Greek Street. She followed Sasha – who was one of the club’s newest recruits having only started working there seven months ago – down the stairs.

  Getting to the lounge, Franny stopped and stared in horror, muttering more to herself than Sasha. ‘Jesus Christ.’ Then she rushed across the large, sparsely furnished whitewashed room to where Sophie was lying naked on the floor.

  Straight away, Franny could see Sophie was fitting and her eyes were rolling to the back of her head, a combination of vomit and spit foaming out of her mouth.

  Kneeling down, Franny gently lifted Sophie’s head onto her lap. ‘It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll get you some help, darlin’.’ She turned to Sasha and barked out her order. ‘Phone an ambulance … Now!’

  Still trembling and clearly in shock, Sasha nodded before disappearing out of the room. Turning her attention back to Sophie, whose breathing was becoming more and more staggered as her body violently convulsed, Franny moved her to the recovery position.

  She brushed Sophie’s long fringe back from her face, which was sprinkled with flecks of cocaine and vomit. ‘It’s okay, darlin’, you’ll be all right. You hear me? Sasha’s calling the ambulance now. Hang in there, baby. Hang in there.’

  Hearing a noise, Franny looked up and saw Sasha standing in the doorway with fear written all over her face.

  ‘Did you call them, Sash? How long did they say until they get here?’

  Unable to look at Franny, Sasha shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t call them.’

  ‘What do you mean, you didn’t? Go and call them. Now! For fuck’s sake, Sash, she needs help! She’s dying, now go and get help!’

  With tears in her eyes, Sasha mumbled, her whole body shaking. ‘I can’t call.’

  Worried for Sophie, who was looking paler and bluer, Franny glared at Sasha. ‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about or what’s got into you, but you need to get an ambulance. Please, Sash, go! Go, call them!’

  ‘She won’t be doing that, Miss Doyle. No one’s calling anyone.’

  Franny stared up at the man, who she knew only from sight but was aware was one of the owner’s henchmen, as he stepped into the room.

  Franny snarled with anger and frustration running through her. ‘She might die. Do you understand? If she doesn’t get help soon, she is going to die!’

  ‘Then she dies, Ms Doyle. That’s what happens when you mess with drugs.’

  As Sophie continued to convulse, Franny hissed through her teeth. ‘Phone the fucking ambulance, you hear me? She’s just a kid.’

  The man, who spoke with a strong East End accent but was South East Asian by origin, pulled a face. ‘Not my concern. If she snorts that shit up like it’s on special offer, what do you expect?’

  Placing Sophie’s head on the floor, Franny scrambled up and rushed towards the door.

  ‘You mean the shit that you feed her, because let’s face it, what you expect them to do would be really fucking hard if they weren’t out of their heads.’

  The man glared at her, his brown eyes cold and menacing. ‘I’d be careful what you say.’

  Franny shook her head. ‘Don’t even try to threaten me … Now get out of my way, cos if you won’t call for help, then I will.’

  As she went to leave, the man blocked her way. ‘I don’t think that would be very wise, do you?’

  ‘I don’t care what’s wise. I ain’t your prisoner and I don’t work for you, so just get the fuck out of my way, so I can get her some help.’ Franny seethed.

  ‘What’s the problem, here?’ Wan Huang spoke in a soft London accent as he came into sight and walked along the corridor towards Franny.

  Glancing at him, Franny said, ‘She needs help. I think Sophie must have overdosed, and this wanker won’t let me call for the ambulance.’

  Hurrying across to Sophie, Wan – tall and handsome, in his early twenties – knelt down, leaning his head towards her. He stayed there for a few moments before Franny watched as he
put his fingers on the pulse of her neck and then on the pulse of her wrist. He looked up, shaking his head. ‘It’s too late, Fran … I’m sorry, she’s dead.’

  Sasha let out a piercing scream as Franny stared at Sophie lying motionless on the floor.

  ‘What? No! No! She can’t be! You must’ve got it wrong. She can’t be.’

  ‘She is, Fran, come and see for yourself.’

  Unable to speak, Franny turned to the man standing at the door and without warning, slammed her fist into his face. ‘You bastard! She was only seventeen years old!’ Then she leapt at him, pummelling her fists into his head. She reached for her gun, which was hidden in her jacket, but it was too late, the man fought back and Franny found herself being pushed up against the wall.

  ‘That’s enough! Break it up! I said, enough!’ Wan shouted at the top of his voice as he dragged Franny off the man.

  Without bothering to say anything else, she rushed down the stairs and out the exit to the fresh air, her heart breaking for Sophie and for Sasha who she could still hear wailing, and not for the first time she wondered how the hell it was she’d stepped into such a nightmare.

  The past eight months had been an utter mess and that was putting it lightly. Everything had been well and truly screwed up. And the past three months had been even worse since the visit from Harry. After that, everything had become about collateral damage and her life now consisted of having to watch her back on top of not knowing who she was able to trust and wondering if she was going to make it through until tomorrow. And ultimately, it was all down to one person. Vaughn Sadler.

  She’d needed to use all her powers of persuasion and negotiation skills not to find herself six feet under. Put there by the family and colleagues of Mr Huang, who’d been the head of a notorious South East Asian Triad gang. That was, of course, before Vaughn had put a knife through the back of his head.

  At first the Triads had been all right but after Harry had started winding them up, stoking their fire, the finger of blame for Huang being killed had slowly begun to point towards her. Not because Wan and his associates thought that she’d actually killed him – they knew she hadn’t – but because it had been her who’d arranged for Vaughn to meet Huang at a secret location, and it was there it’d all gone wrong. Harry Jacobs had done a good job in stirring trouble for her.

  And she was angry, so angry, because of course it was supposed to have been Vaughn with a knife in the back of his head or however Huang had decided to dispose of him on account of the fact that Vaughn had crossed her. The reason why she’d wanted Vaughn dead? He’d broken all the rules that they lived by; he’d snaked her out to the police by trying to frame her for a crime she didn’t commit.

  So, it was only right that he had payback, only right that she paid Huang to do his worst. But clearly, his worst hadn’t been good enough.

  When Huang had been killed, she’d expected his men to go looking for Vaughn, searching him out before chopping him into a thousand pieces. And they had … at first. But Vaughn had been smart; he’d sought protection from his long-term friend Harry Jacobs, who was not only a face, but also had a long, successful business history with the Triads. And she hated Harry nearly, nearly as much as she hated Vaughn.

  Harry had always been well in with the Triads. He let them launder money through his clubs, provided weapons for them and used his network of contacts to bring cocaine and pills into the country.

  Even so, she’d still been surprised and pissed off to say the least when Huang’s half-brother, Wan, the new head of the gang, had agreed – as long as Vaughn was under Harry’s wing – that they would leave Vaughn alone. Which meant he was untouchable for all concerned and that’s when the heat had come onto her, leaving Harry and Vaughn to be able to do what they liked, including nearly taking her fingers off a couple of months back.

  But though Wan had history with Harry, something didn’t sit right. Why would he do a deal with Harry? Why would he essentially agree to let Vaughn off? It was true that Wan had hated his older brother and they’d never got along, but in her heart she knew that wouldn’t stop Wan, or any of his associates for that matter. Wan’s gang were hungry for blood, wanting to show everyone they weren’t to be crossed.

  So, Harry or not, why did they allow Vaughn to still keep walking around? Something wasn’t right. There was more to it than met the eye, and she’d find out. Somehow. But for now, the irony was, it was her who had to watch her back. She didn’t trust Harry and she didn’t trust Vaughn, so a bullet in the back of her head was something she half expected.

  And that’s why no matter how much she didn’t like it, no matter how much the things that Wan’s men did made her sick to her stomach, if she wanted to stay alive the only option she’d had was to play Vaughn at his own game by seeking protection from the other side. From Wan and the Triads themselves. Not that she trusted them either, but with Alfie refusing to contact her, what else could she do?

  Though it had cost her. To get Wan and his men to watch her back she’d handed over her shares in the club she’d owned along with her business contacts. She’d also agreed, or rather she’d been forced to agree, to work for them as well.

  But more expensive than that, it had cost her her self-respect. Grovelling apologies when she’d had to go to them begging, asking them to draw a line under what had happened to Huang. She’d been contrite, she’d agreed to their terms. She’d agreed to be someone she wasn’t. And yes, she felt bitter.

  All the years of power she’d had and worked hard for, worked doubly hard for because she was a woman and she’d had to be more ruthless, more hardened, more inflexible than the men. The loneliness and the sacrifices she’d had to make over the years. And for what? For it all to be thrown away because of Vaughn Sadler.

  Well, as her father had always taught her, revenge was a dish best served cold. And if it turned out that she had to wait – one week, one month, one year – she would serve that dish no matter what it took. Vaughn, Harry and Wan.

  Now, as she thought about Sophie, a girl who’d only been working for the gang for the past few months after coming down from up north, she hated Vaughn even more for putting her in this position – powerless, vulnerable … two qualities she hated nearly as much as she hated him.

  She breathed in deeply again, inhaling the Soho air, gasping for breath and closing her eyes as she leant over, resting her hands on her knees.

  She pushed down the feeling that she wanted to cry and instead – as she had done so many times before – she turned it into the feeling of hatred. Revenge. Payback. Feelings she’d had so much of recently. And she vowed sooner, rather than later, she’d be once again back on top. And when that time came, not one person who’d crossed her would live long enough to regret it.

  3

  It was already 4.30pm as Vaughn drove through the heavy traffic of Central London in silence, wondering if he looked as uncomfortable as he felt.

  He’d tried not to glance in the rear-view mirror to avoid looking at Tia, who’d spent most the journey crying or trying to defend herself against Harry’s constant jibes.

  He couldn’t believe that he’d ended up working for Harry Jacobs. He was grateful to be alive, of course, but he would rather be doing anything else than this. And there was only one person to blame for this mess he was in. Franny Doyle.

  Franny had arranged for Mr Huang, Wan’s brother, to have Vaughn killed, but it was Huang who was pushing up daisies. Though he hadn’t killed Huang like everyone thought, he was more than happy to take the blame because Huang had actually been killed by Shannon Mulligan, who was no more than a kid, really. And an ex-junkie kid at that.

  Shannon had saved his life, for no other reason than she cared for him – he’d looked out for her and put a roof over her head when no one else had. But things soon spiralled out of control and not only did Shannon end up killing her abusive uncle, she also got caught up with Huang and his men. Though in one way he would always be thankful that she did, bec
ause it was when Shannon had been working for Huang that she’d found out what Franny had been planning.

  Instead of just leaving him to be set up, to be chopped up into pieces and thrown into the Thames, Shannon had come looking to warn him and had ended up driving a knife into the back of Huang’s head herself to save Vaughn’s life.

  He’d never let on it was Shannon who’d actually killed Huang. He’d go to his grave with that secret.

  Of course, they’d had to get away and lie low, and when they’d been hiding out in Spain, he’d wondered how he was going to make a comeback, earn money, but more importantly how he was going to live long enough to get his revenge. But then he’d run into Harry in Marbella, where they’d been holed up in a friend’s villa.

  Harry was someone he hadn’t seen for years, someone he had a history with and someone he’d once helped get out of a tricky situation. And for all Harry was, for all Harry had done, he didn’t forget a favour. So as much as he’d rather not be here working for Harry, the tables were turned and now Harry was helping him out of the trickiest situation he’d ever been in.

  Though, in all fairness, he was surprised that Wan had agreed to back down. He knew that Harry did business with him and they went back a fair way, but it was still saying something that Wan, who was known for being more ruthless than his brother, didn’t want Vaughn’s head on a plate.

  With Shannon still tucked well away in Spain for now – both from the police who were looking to question her about her uncle, as well as being away from the mess that still circled around what had happened with Franny and to Huang – he could concentrate on sorting out the shit he was wading in without worrying about Shannon. And once he had, once he’d sorted everything out, there’d certainly be a happy ever after; Franny would get what was coming.

  ‘Will you stop that fucking crying, Tia, you’ve done my nut in the whole journey. Poor Vaughn ain’t said fuck all, cos he’s probably wondering what the fuck he’s got into and no doubt that bastard Wan and his gang probably seem a better bet to him right now. God knows they’d be quieter. Ain’t that right, Vaughnie?’ Harry’s loud voice boomed around the Range Rover, cutting into Vaughn’s thoughts as he pulled into a small mews just off Harley Street.