“Well, I thought it was all agreed, I thought -”
“Who?” Sanjay said, cutting off his murmurings.
“Dante,” Wimbly said. “Dante Cortez. It’s Troy’s cellmate. He told me he was running things on the inside now.”
Sanjay found himself smiling. Now he had a name. And it seemed that this Dante Cortez had some nerve to be threatening Wimbly, making money dealing inside using the Banks brothers’ drugs. It was almost brilliant in its audacity, Sanjay thought. Of course, all he had to do was say a few words to Tyrese and Dante would be dead.
Sanjay did not want that though, not yet anyway.
“I want you to get me a visit with him,” Sanjay said. Wimbly looked surprised, but he nodded. “Tomorrow,” Sanjay told him. Wimbly was still red-faced and wide-eyed as Sanjay pushed off from the counter and headed for the door.
“I’ll see myself out,” he called over his shoulder as he left the kitchen.
* * *
It was early evening and the cocktail bar in Soho was starting to fill up. The place was fancy, Adrianna thought, eyeing her surroundings with pleasure. The bar was clean, the bartender was handsome in a crisp white shirt and black waistcoat, and the patrons were middle-class; nice jewellery, smart clothes, expensive shoes.
This was the kind of place she had always pictured herself frequenting. It was the height of sophistication, far classier than the shitholes that Brandy often took her too, where the bars were sticky with spilt shots and the guys were like animals in vests and low-hanging jeans. No, she thought, this was exactly where she belonged. She smiled indulgently at Trent and snuggled up to him in the booth. It was cream-leather, very fancy, she thought. The plate glass windows looked out over a small square, and she watched passers-by for a few minutes.
The waiter brought their drinks over. Trent had a pint of beer, of course, but Adrianna had pushed the boat out and ordered the fanciest cocktail on the menu. It was a bright red, full of crushed ice and spirits, and it came with a little straw and a pink and yellow umbrella.
“This is perfect,” she said. Beside her, arm draped casually behind her, Trent smiled. She meant her words. She had never felt so satisfied, she thought. Since she had first met Trent, she had wanted this lifestyle – money and luxury, with none of the work. She wished he had dressed up a bit more for the occasion and for a place like this, but she had persuaded him to wear a shirt, which was something, at least, she thought.
She had gone all out with her outfit, and she knew she stood out even compared to the women wearing clothes far more expensive than her own.
Sipping at her cocktail, Adrianna almost choked on her drink when she caught sight of Fernanda, Sanjay’s girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend probably after last night, pass the plate-glass window. She was with a few other girls, all dressed up, hair styled and looking like they were on a night out.
She hoped, prayed, that they would pass right by and not look twice at the place, but she shrank a little in the booth as they pushed through the door and headed to the bar. The waiter smiled widely, clearly pleased with their arrival.
Adrianna’s palms felt damp with sweat now and she took another sip of her cocktail. Trent, beside her, had glanced unconsciously at the girls, but he clearly recognised none of them. Adrianna needed to get him out of here, in case Fernanda recognised her. She wasn’t sure if she would, didn’t know how much Sanjay might have told her. She could never let Trent find out, never ruin this perfect life she was beginning to grow accustomed to.
Sanjay had called her to warn her that Fernanda had seen the pictures and the texts they had exchanged, but Adrianna now strained to remember what Fernanda would have seen of her, whether her face was recognizable in them.
As if on cue, Fernanda turned to look around the room and her gaze locked on her. They held each other’s eyes for a long moment. Adrianna was panic-stricken and looked away, but there was no doubt that Fernanda had recognised her.
She extricated herself from her friends, who looked weary now. Adrianna’s body tensed as Fernanda approached their table. Trent leant forwards slightly, curious, unaware who she was.
Adrianna’s mind was racing, but she could not think of what to do, what to say, to prevent the inevitable.
“Good evening,” Fernanda greeted them; smile wide, but Adrianna saw the anger in her eyes. Fernanda was pretty, she thought, much more so than she had expected, all tanned skin and Brazilian curves and curls. “Adrianna, right?”
Adrianna couldn’t bring herself to speak, her throat was so constricted. Fernanda didn’t seem to have expected a response. She glanced at Trent, then back at Adrianna.
“I just wanted to come over and say hello,” Fernanda said sweetly. She fake-smiled again. “As far as my boyfriend is concerned, keep your fucking hands off.”
Her words cut the air and Adrianna felt sweat erupt all over her body, her hands shaking. Beside her, she felt Trent tense too.
“What do you –” Trent began, confused.
“Ask her,” Fernanda said bluntly, gesturing to Adrianna. She smiled again and sauntered back to her friends, a swagger in her step now. Her friends passed her a drink and they all laughed, and Adrianna wondered if they were mocking her, enjoying her suffering.
“What the fuck was that about?” Trent asked, still confused. “Is she –”
Adrianna could hardly breathe. Her pulse was pounding, and she knew she was blushing, sweat on her forehead. One look at her and he would know the truth, she knew it.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” she blurted out, almost knocking over her drink in her haste to get away from the table. She hurried to the toilets and almost collapsed against the sinks, still shaking.
She composed herself. Fernanda was a bitch, but Adrianna would have done the same if the situation was reversed. What mattered now was making sure Trent did not suspect anything.
Checking her reflection and taking a deep breath, she rehearsed what she would say and sauntered back to the table, forcing herself to maintain her composure.
“You ok?” Trent asked, once she had slid back beside him in the booth.
“Fine,” Adrianna said, hoping she sounded casual. Before Trent could ask about Fernanda, she pre-empted him. “Crazy girl,” she shook her head. “Probably had too much to drink and got me confused with someone else.”
“Yeah,” Trent said, still sounding bewildered. “Maybe I should have a word.”
“No, no,” Adrianna said quickly. Maybe too quickly. She forced a smile. “Let’s not ruin our evening.”
Trent nodded, lifting his pint glass to his lips. Adrianna watched his face, but could not tell what he was thinking, if he was still suspicious. He said nothing further, so she began to relax, her pulse returning to a normal pace, and sipped her cocktail.
* * *
Aurora waited for Troy to take another step up towards her. He looked at her, perhaps surprised that she did not back away, wondering why she was not intimidated by him. Troy thought everyone feared him, but Aurora did not feel afraid, not now that she was the one with the knife.
“I was wondering when I’d see you,” Troy smiled, licking his lips obnoxiously as he looked her up and down. She resisted the urge to recoil under his open gaze. He grinned wider, sensing her discomfort. “And look, here we are, all alone. You know how much I’ve wanted to get you all to myself. I thought about you a lot whilst I was away.”
He grabbed his crotch and gestured, and Aurora rolled her eyes.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” she asked. “Or turn me on? Because either way, it’s not working.” Troy stopped, faltering, surprised by her reaction. Aurora pressed on. “You know what you look like? A stupid kid who never got taught basic manners, that’s what.”
“Listen, you stuck-up cow, don’t forget you were a pathetic, sniveling mess last time we were alone together,” Troy hissed. “And last time I showed you some mercy, for all the good it did me. If you think I’m going to let you get away a second time, you’re in for a shock.”
He took a step up, closing the gap between them. Aurora took a step up, backing away, unsure why her legs were doing the opposite of what she wanted to do. Her hand shook on the knife behind her back, but she did not use it.
“You’re starting to look scared,” Troy said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Now you’re starting to understand, Aurora.”
Aurora readied herself, but she still could not bring herself to strike. Even now he was threatening her, invading her personal space, she could not bring herself to use the knife.
“You turned everyone against me,” Troy continued, taking another step closer. “You came between me and Clint. It’s your fault Brandy betrayed me. You made me -”
“Have you heard yourself?” Aurora asked, indignation rising through her like liquid anger. “You have the cheek to blame everything on me?”
Troy’s eyes narrowed. The knife quivered in her hand.
“Troy, you killed my sister,” Aurora said, refusing to take a step back, to back away from him. She was no coward. She was not afraid. “It wasn’t me who turned people against you, I didn’t make Brandy betray you or Clint fall out with you. It was all you. It was all your fault.”
Troy looked shocked. It was as if nobody had ever told him this before.
“You’re trying to twist things -” Troy started, but she cut him off.
“No, Troy, you’re fucking delusional,” Aurora said, her voice rising. It was her turn to take a step forward. Troy was startled, taking a step backwards instinctively. He tripped as he took another step back and stumbled, grasping the wall of the stairwell to stop himself falling down the flight of stairs.
Aurora took another step closer, and it was her turn to sneer down at him.
“You blame everyone but yourself, but take a good long look at yourself, Troy. You’re nothing but a stupid, arrogant, ignorant little fuckwit who thinks he’s a somebody. In reality, you’re just another pathetic gangbanger who’s going to spend your life in and out of prison before you die in prison or a crack-house or out on the street.”
Troy was shocked into silence by her outburst, but she did not let up.
“You know what, Troy,” Aurora laughed, pulling the knife from behind her back. His eyes widened, stepping away, his back to the wall of the stairwell, raising a hand as if it would be any match for the blade. Aurora bore down on him. “I was going to stab you, leave you here to bleed out like you did to my sister, but now I’ve seen how pathetic you are, I’m not going to. Why should I waste my own life when I can just let you do the job for me. Life will be far crueler to you than I ever could be. You’re going to die a sad, lonely, waste of a man, Troy, and I’ll jump on your grave when you do.”
With that she spat at his feet. Troy was still silent, reeling from her words.
“Now stay the fuck away from me,” Aurora said as she approached him. “Stay the fuck away from Clint, stay away from my family. Because next time I will use this fucking knife and I’d have the whole estate cheering me on when I do.”
She went down the stairs, leaving him backed against the wall, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her. Troy was nothing to fear, he was as pathetic as he had always been.
Why should she take on the burden of killing someone, of ending a life? She would become just like him if she did.
No, she would be the bigger person and walk away.
* * *
Troy watched Aurora turn the corner out of sight and heard her footfalls as she descended the rest of the stairwell.
He was shocked, hardly believing what had just happened. She had threatened him, had him backed against the wall like a stray dog cowering in the corner.
He thought of going after her. He could catch up with her, strike her before she had a chance to turn around and use the knife. He would disarm her and then batter her. He would show no mercy, would teach her a few lessons about respect, about how she should be treating a Banks brother. He would leave her for dead, or perhaps he would show her the same mercy he had shown her sister and end her miserable life for her.
No, he thought, stopping himself.
He remembered what Brandy had said. It had been his obsession with her that had driven her to make a deal with the police, and he knew it was the same thing that had driven Clint away from him.
Perhaps it was not all Aurora’s fault, he thought, and partly his own.
Still shocked at the realization and the fact that Aurora had stood up to him, and not only that but even scared him a little, he felt indignation burn at his cheeks as he staggered up the stairs and retreated to the safety of home.
* * *
Trent hated fancy cocktail bars like the one he was currently sat in. They were full of pretentious twats, and sluts who thought that because they wore designer labels they were somehow above him. He still frequented them though; he knew that girls liked being shown off in places like this, and Adrianna was no different.
She was on her third cocktail and she was relaxed again now. He could not relax though, not after the scene earlier in the evening with the feisty Brazilian girl. Adrianna had said that the girl must have been drunk, must have gotten the wrong person. Trent did not believe it. The Brazilian had only just walked in and she hadn’t slurred her words or staggered, she was perfectly sober when she had come over. More tellingly, she had used Adrianna’s name. A pretty big fucking coincidence, Trent thought, two girls who looked the same with the same name. He wanted some answers and he would get them.
The perfect opportunity arose. The Brazilian left her friends and went outside. Through the glass window, he saw her light a cigarette. He pulled his own packet out and shook a cigarette out.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said to Adrianna, who nodded, totally at ease, swaying to the music, cocktail in front of her.
Outside, he approached her. She eyed him wearily, flicking her cigarette, but she made no attempt to walk away or go back inside.
“I didn’t catch your name earlier,” Trent said as he stopped beside her, lighting his cigarette.
“I didn’t give it,” she said, barely glancing at him, looking at the people passing on their way to the clubs. “And it’s none of your business.”
“When you accuse my girlfriend of sleeping with your boyfriend it is.”
She eyed him for a moment, then took a long drag on her cigarette.
“I never used those words.”
“You didn’t have to,” Trent said. He waited for a response. She said nothing. He sighed, impatient. “Is it the truth?”
“Just keep your girlfriend away from Sanjay,” she said. She was feisty, Trent thought, direct. “I don’t know what her game is, but she can go play with someone that isn’t my man.”
“Sanjay?” Trent sucked in some air, almost choking on the smoke. “Your boyfriend, Sanjay Siddiqui?”
She didn’t answer, but he knew he was right. She flicked her cigarette into the gutter.
“It’s cold out here, I’m going back inside,” she said. She looked Trent straight in the face, and he held her look. “I meant what I said. If I find out Adrianna’s been so much as looking at my boyfriend again, she won’t look so pretty when I’m finished with her.”
“You caught them together?” Trent asked.
“In a manner of speaking.”
Anger flared across her features, and Trent felt himself stir.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” he said, as she went to pass him. “You can do better than Sanjay. A lot better.”
“Is that an offer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Trent smiled, deciding he liked this woman a lot.
“We could call it payback,” he suggested.
She laughed, turning away from him.
“I’ll pass on that,” she called back over her shoulder. “It may come as a surprise to you, but not every woman has self-respect as low as that bitch in there. And as for doing better than Sanjay, I know I could, but I love him. And you’re hardly a step up
from him at any rate love.”
Then she was through the door, back to her friends.
Trent could not help but smile. He had to give her credit, she had some balls. His smile quickly faded as he thought about Adrianna. He believed the Brazilian; she had no reason to lie.
That meant Adrianna had cheated on him, and with Sanjay Siddiqui of all people. She had betrayed him. He should have known a girl like that would double-cross him. He should never have trusted her, never let her close.
As he went back inside, he smiled as he approached Adrianna. She looked so happy, he thought, so satisfied. He slid into the booth beside her again.
He would wipe the smile off her face, he decided. He would punish her for her betrayal. By the time he was finished with her, she would never smile again.
* * *
Sanjay let himself into the house and checked his phone, pleased with how his visit to Wimbly had gone. He was surprised to see a text message from Fernanda. She had finally replied to his messages. It was blunt, but it was a start, he thought, beaming to himself.
He caught sight of Amal, glued to his phone, and considered his brother.
The last few days had seen a change in his brother and it did not take a genius to figure out what the change was.
“You better not let Naz find out,” Sanjay said, and Amal looked up in surprise, locking his phone quickly as if that was what had given away his secret.
“What do you mean?” he stammered. “What you on about?”
“You and Naz’s ex-girlfriend,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at the attempt Amal made to look affronted. Amal sighed, giving up the pretence. Sanjay clapped him on the shoulder in support. “If you really like this girl, I’m not saying don’t see her. I’m just saying don’t let Naz find out about this, because we still need him onside.”
“Don’t worry, we’re being careful,” Amal said, though he sounded uncertain.
“Mate, I could spot it a mile off,” Sanjay said. “You’re sharing pictures all over the place, you’re going all smiley and doe-eyed whenever you look at your phone. Mate, you couldn’t be more obvious if you tried.”
“You think Naz knows?” Amal asked, blushing a little.
The Goldsworth Series Box Set Page 122