Blood Money

by Matt Rogers

  So she erected mental walls to calm herself down, closed her eyes, and pretended she was somewhere else.

  Anywhere but here.

  She lay down and went to sleep.

  13

  The slightest shift in the weight of the mattress woke her with a jolt of energy.

  She kept her eyes closed, but cognitively, she was all there. Instantly alert, ready for anything, ready to kill with her bare hands if it came to it. But she hid all of those emotions under the operational mask, and stretched her arms over her head like she was crawling out of the deepest sleep imaginable.

  When she opened her eyes, Zafir was propped up on one elbow, his fat torso covered in a forest of hair. He had heavy dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and his face had puffed up overnight, his cheeks swelling even larger than usual. He was halfway through looking around the room, but when he noticed her move, his gaze shot over to meet hers.

  She made herself glow, and she smiled. ‘Hey.’

  He rubbed his eyes.

  Didn’t respond.

  Licked his cracked lips with a dehydrated tongue.

  ‘I had so much fun last night,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  He didn’t say anything. He looked down at himself, at his lack of clothes, at his big hairy body. He’d be hungover now, in possession of all his inhibitions, maybe ashamed that he was in such bad shape in comparison to her. Alcohol has the masterful ability to hide all of that. The morning-afters aren’t as carefree.

  Especially not this one.

  He pulled the covers a little further up his chest, which surprised her. She hadn’t considered him capable of feeling shame. Not with the endless list of war crimes under his belt. She’d imagined that had been stripped from him a long time ago.

  Ah, well, she thought. It works in my favour.

  She could use it to manipulate him, if she needed.

  But she didn’t think that would be necessary. She already had him in the palm of her hand.

  There was a horizontal line of bruising across his throat, swollen and purple. He finally sensed it, and reached up with a probing finger. He pushed against his trachea, and winced.

  She let her smile turn to a smirk.

  He noticed.

  She said, ‘I made your dreams come true. Just like you asked.’

  He stared.

  She said, ‘I’m happy we met. We both like it rough, don’t we?’

  The same uncomfortable silence stretched out.

  She didn’t care.

  What the hell was he going to say?

  Nothing, as it turned out. He blinked hard, trying to fight off what she imagined was close to a migraine, and swung off the bed. She watched him snatch his clothes up, pad into the en suite, and slam the door shut. His abruptness didn’t faze her.

  Embarrassment was the sharpest tool in her arsenal, and she knew how to wield it.

  She threw the sheets off herself, fetched her bra and slipped it back on, priding herself on the fact that Zafir hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of her body in the flesh. All that mattered was that he thought he had, and now couldn’t recall.

  Confusion was often more powerful than a bullet.

  As she suspected, she was fully dressed long before he emerged from the bathroom. When he finally stepped out, also dressed, there was a mixture of sheepishness and satisfaction on his face. He’d taken the time to think about what had happened. To process the beauty of the woman he’d taken to bed. He couldn’t remember it, but it wasn’t about the sex. It was an ego thing, more than anything. A power trip in his own mind.

  That’s what I did, he was thinking. That’s who I am.

  A steroid shot of confidence.

  There weren’t many women like her in the looks department. It was an honour just to think he’d bedded her.

  So there were no protests. No complaints or questions.

  He simply nodded, and led her to the door.

  Natural light drenched the corridor outside the room, flooding in through porthole windows. A clock on the wall put the time at eight a.m. She caught a brief glimpse of Port Hercules out the window, and soaked it in. The cloudless sky, the sun glimmering off the water, the endless rows of yachts and speedboats, the rest of Monte-Carlo sweeping up the hillside.

  Then Zafir put a hand on the small of her back again, guiding her toward the staircase.

  She was his prized possession.

  She almost smirked at how easy it all was.

  Make him think he’s in charge, but keep control.

  She took the steps two at a time, her gait positively jovial. Trying to encompass the demeanour of a woman who’d had a night she wouldn’t forget.

  She made it upstairs ahead of Zafir. Five of the women from the night before were spread across armchairs and sofas. Some were awake, and some weren’t. Wayne was nowhere to be found. Nor was Nadia, or the other three girls, or the five bodyguards. The atmosphere was subdued. Nothing close to the highs of the night before. But it was a warm, pleasant morning, and the sun was shining above the hardtop bimini, and the hangovers weren’t so bad in the grip of unimaginable luxury.

  The energy had simply lowered.

  A Hispanic man in his late twenties with neat close-cropped hair stood at attention behind the bar. He watched her emerge at the top of the stairs and said, ‘Coffee for you, ma’am?’

  ‘Espresso,’ Ruby said. ‘Thank you.’

  Zafir appeared next, looming behind her, but instead of following her like a loyal puppy he moved to the closest armchair and dropped himself into it. Then he pressed his fingers into his closed eyes and groaned.

  One of the girls made eye contact with Ruby and smirked.

  Ruby said, ‘He had a big night.’

  ‘You don’t say?’

  Something rustled behind her.

  She barely noticed it, only picking it up at the edge of her hearing.

  She turned.

  Aaron Wayne was less than a foot away from her.

  He seemed livid.

  14

  She took a vital half-second to compose herself, and then said, ‘What?’

  He didn’t say a word.

  Just silently brushed past her and floated over to the bar, where he murmured something to the Hispanic guy. The man nodded and instantly produced a steaming mug of coffee. It seemed he’d been anticipating Wayne’s arrival down to the minute. Wayne nodded gratefully, brought the mug to his lips, and took a sip.

  Then he swivelled on the bar stool and surveyed the top deck with a predatory gaze.

  Ruby stayed frozen to the spot. The man was an enigma. She realised he revealed nothing out of impulse. He’d seemed furious at her, but instead of enlightening her as to the reason, he’d retreated into his shell. He was as objective as they came. Assessing a situation from all angles before moving. She could see the silent rage still there, brimming under the surface, but she knew no one else would. He wasn’t letting it show.

  With practiced confidence, he swung off the stool and sauntered over to Zafir. He slapped the warlord on the shoulder.

  ‘How are you, my friend?’ he said.

  Zafir grunted, ‘Good.’

  It was the first word he’d uttered all morning.

  Wayne didn’t take the hand away. He hovered over Zafir with purpose, watching him, unblinking. Eventually the warlord crawled out of his hungover misery and looked up to meet Wayne’s gaze.

  Immediately, Wayne nodded and stepped away.

  The whole thing was odd.

  The guy behind the bar gestured for Ruby to come over, and placed a shot of espresso on the stone countertop. She went over and drank it, thankful for the liquid energy. She had a feeling she’d need it. The atmosphere had palpably stiffened ever since Wayne had appeared.

  When she finished the coffee and swivelled on her stool, Large and Small had materialised out of nowhere, framing Wayne on either side.

  The whole trio were staring at her.

  Wayne murmured something to La
rge, who nodded his understanding, never taking his eyes off her.

  Once again, she had the sensation that they could see into her soul.

  Wayne said, ‘Ruby.’

  She looked at him.

  He said, ‘The three of us would like to have a chat with you. Downstairs, if you don’t mind.’

  She didn’t respond.

  They waited.

  She waited.

  They weren’t going to budge.

  She had to.

  She said, ‘Sure.’

  15

  They led her into a conference room on the bottom deck, a relatively cramped space with a long wooden table that acted as a centrepiece, surrounded by nearly a dozen vintage Eames chairs. The walls pressed in behind the chairs, and the room was windowless, artificially lit by harsh white light.

  Ruby’s breath caught in her throat.

  She didn’t let it show for a second.

  She sat down without any prompting, dropping into one of the swivel chairs and twirling around to face the trio. She kept her expression placid, her posture unassuming. She let restlessness bring her shoulders forward, making her fingers twitch, but passed it off as a woman who couldn’t be bothered taking any shit.

  Someone oblivious, in the grip of a mighty hangover, who was more focused on a coffee and some quiet time over whatever this charade was.

  Wayne didn’t sit down.

  Some kind of posturing, no doubt.

  He spun one of the swivel chairs around so it was facing away from him, and put his big hands on the seat-back. Leant forward, putting his weight into his arms, so veins rippled in his wrists and forearms. He had a decent physique, no thanks to a lot of sun and a lot of steroids and maybe a little bit of hard work. But he didn’t need the muscle, or the combat prowess. Large and Small had it in spades, and they hovered in the background, stern and uncompromising.

  Ruby said, ‘What’s up?’

  Wayne stared.

  She said, ‘You’re going to have to spit it out eventually.’

  ‘What are you doing in Monaco?’

  ‘Having fun. Seems you didn’t get the memo.’

  He didn’t smile.

  He said, ‘I want direct answers.’

  ‘I’m on holiday,’ she said. ‘I thought that’d be obvious.’

  ‘Why did you approach me in Sapphire?’

  ‘I didn’t. You approached me.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘You seemed fun.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Maybe I was mistaken.’

  ‘I’m a lot of fun,’ Wayne said. ‘But not when it comes to business. That’s the reason why I didn’t sleep with anyone last night. Because this is business. And when there’s money involved, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my focus.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because you seem like the only guest on this boat who has their head screwed on.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. ‘Now tell me why you wanted to come here. Or I’ll start questioning everything. And I might not like what I find.’

  ‘You want my whole life story?’

  ‘Just the important parts.’

  ‘I’m from Maine,’ she said. ‘I live in Los Angeles. I design and sell lingerie. I make a lot of money doing it. It allows me to come to places like this care-free. If you want me to be ruthlessly honest, I’m not all that impressed by your wealth. What I am impressed by is your intelligence. I know this is a business deal. I knew as soon as I saw you all in the booth. I put it together. That’s why I bedded that fat slob last night. You should cut me in on the final cheque. You would, if you had any smarts. He’ll sign anything on the dotted line after the night I gave him.’

  ‘And that,’ Wayne said, ‘is why we’re down here talking. Because of the night you gave him.’

  Ruby raised an eyebrow.

  Wayne said, ‘What’s on his neck?’

  ‘Bruises.’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘He asked for it.’

  Wayne rolled the chair a little closer, gripping the seat-back tighter.

  ‘You’re smart,’ he said, his voice low and cold. ‘You said that yourself. And I know it. I’m a good judge of character. Wouldn’t be in this position if I wasn’t. So, Ms. Smarts, did you ever think that he might regret something he asked for when he was blind drunk?’

  Ruby shrugged. ‘That’s not my problem.’

  ‘It’s my problem,’ Wayne said. ‘And you’re on my boat.’

  Icy silence.

  She said nothing.

  This is no ordinary discussion.

  An indescribable tension had crept into the air. She became distinctly aware of the lack of windows in the room, the lack of possessions on her person. No phone. No point of contact with the outside world. Realistically, they could strangle her to death right here, and sail out and attach weights to her body and sink her to the bottom of the ocean. They’d probably manage it, too. She needed a better setup than this. She had a chance of taking Large and Small and Wayne separately, one by one. Not together. Not three men who outweighed her by dozens of pounds each. She had unrivalled combat prowess, but physics were physics. Bone structure, testosterone, the raw power of adrenaline.

  They’d break her apart with their bare hands.

  She thought all of this, but didn’t show it.

  She said, ‘I know it’s your boat. I’m grateful you extended an invitation. But I don’t see what I should have done differently.’

  Wayne bristled.

  He said, ‘You should have thought, Everyone’s going to see the marks the next morning. That might be embarrassing. Maybe I should refrain. He’s not thinking straight.’

  ‘I told you he liked it,’ Ruby said. ‘In fact, he loved it. Ask him, if you’re so paranoid. It won’t affect the deal. Whatever the deal is.’

  Wayne kept staring.

  The silence extended.

  Then he relaxed. Spun the chair around and dropped into it, so he was facing her.

  He said, ‘Are you fucking me over?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you understand how unhappy I’ll be if you are?’

  ‘You’re paranoid,’ she said. ‘I don’t care about your business. It’s yours and yours alone. I accepted your invitation because I thought you were cute and I liked your vibe. That’s it.’

  ‘Then how do you feel about what I made you do?’

  ‘You didn’t make me do anything,’ she said. ‘I did it for the money you promised me, and I expect to be paid.’

  ‘You will be,’ he said. ‘But how would you like to double it?’

  She paused.

  For dramatic effect.

  He trusts me.

  What a fool.

  She said, ‘I’m listening.’

  16

  Wayne said, ‘He likes you.’

  ‘He does.’

  ‘You’re sure he enjoyed last night?’

  ‘I know when a man is pleased.’

  ‘No regrets this morning?’

  ‘On whose end?’

  He didn’t blink.

  She said, ‘No regrets. In fact, he wouldn’t shut up about it.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Want to question him?’

  ‘No,’ Wayne said. ‘I don’t want to do anything that might spook him. That’s why I’m talking to you.’

  In the palm of my hand, she thought.

  She said, ‘What’s the deal? How can I help?’

  Indecision seemed to gnaw at him.

  The walls came up, a final respite before he opened the floodgates.

  Then rapid calculations happened behind his eyes.

  Running through the possibilities. Figuring Ruby was his best shot at making sure everything went swimmingly. Thinking, She’s right. I approached her. She didn’t orchestrate this. I’m being paranoid. I can trust her.

  He said, ‘My development group is constructing
a supertall skyscraper in Manhattan. Along Billionaires’ Row. It’s costing me eight hundred million dollars, and construction is taking longer than expected. Which is a fucking nightmare for the interest payments. You understand?’

  Ruby nodded, pretending she was still processing it, a little slow between the ears.

  In reality, she already knew all this.

  She just didn’t know how Zafir factored into it.

  Wayne said, ‘Your one night stand is going to help me out with the payments. That’s all you need to know.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘A Middle Eastern guy with a lot of money.’

  ‘Oil money?’

  ‘Yeah. Something like that.’

  Inwardly, she seethed.

  Thought of how many innocent men, women and children were lying dead and maimed in Yemen as a direct result of Zafir’s actions.

  Her blood boiled.

  If there was anything she despised more than blood money, it was those who feigned ignorance as they accepted it.

  She said, ‘Then what’s the problem? Why is this so private? I must be missing something.’

  Wayne shrugged. ‘It’d be awkward if I took his payments publicly. It’d look suspicious. We’re going to do it through shell corporations I’ve set up, so it seems like it’s coming from a private equity firm. Nothing sinister. Just cutting a few corners. It’s business.’

  Of course it is, she thought.

  She said, ‘How much is this deal?’

  ‘He’s going to give me two hundred million,’ Wayne said. ‘In exchange I’m giving him twenty-five percent of the tower’s profits when it’s completed. Off the books, of course. But there’s a lot of money in that. A hell of a lot of money. For all parties involved.’

  She knew exactly which supertall skyscraper Wayne was building.