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, because 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.
Vaughn gave a tight smile but didn’t say anything, not wanting to get involved.
‘You see that, Tia, Vaughn’s too polite to say what a noisy cunt you’ve been.’
Tia stared at her husband wondering quite how she had so many tears. Harry was intolerable and she could see that he was enjoying tormenting her. She had a banging headache and the only thing that had got her through the journey was the thought of seeing her children. She was looking forward to getting out of the car and having a nice, long bath.
‘Will you turn it in, Harry? Stop digging me out. You’ve made your point, so can you drop it?’
Roaring with laughter, Harry opened the car door after Vaughn pulled up outside the last house in the row. ‘Drop it? Tia, after what you’ve done, I ain’t even started, darlin’.’
He slammed out of the car and stalked towards the house with the pale pink front door as Tia wearily stepped out of the car. Though as she did, she quickly glanced across to Harry to make sure he wasn’t looking as she spoke in a whisper to Vaughn. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Vaughn stared ahead, not wanting Harry to see them talking. ‘I didn’t have a choice.’
‘You had every choice!’
With his cheeks flushing with anger, Vaughn hissed, ‘If I did, do you really think that I’d come here?’
‘I dunno, Vaughn. I don’t know what you’d do.’
‘I was desperate.’
Grabbing her cream Prada bag, Tia snapped, ‘Yeah, well we’ve all been that. It don’t mean you needed to come here.’
With his anger getting the better of him, Vaughn swivelled around. ‘If I hadn’t, I would’ve been a dead man by now.’
‘Well, it’s a shame you’re not.’
‘Everything all right? She ain’t chewing your ear off is she mate?’ Harry’s voice boomed out from the doorway of the house.
‘No, it’s fine. She just thought she’d dropped her phone!’ Vaughn called back.
‘Dozy fucking cow. Just leave her to it. Come and have a drink!’
Ignoring Harry’s insults, Tia shook her head. She’d known that Vaughn had been in trouble, big trouble, but she never guessed that he would actually come and work with Harry. Leaning towards Vaughn, she hissed her words. ‘I want you gone. Understand? But in the meantime, stay away from me, Vaughn. Don’t talk to me. I don’t want anything to do with you. You hear me? Just stay away from me.’ And with that Tia Jacobs rushed into the house, crying again.
Tia’s hand reached for the bathroom door just as it was abruptly swung open by a strikingly beautiful woman. Tammy Owens. It always amazed Tia how even though it was her house, with her children in it, over the past year or so it was Tammy opening the door from the inside, whilst she stood waiting to be let in, very much from the outside.
‘Tia! Welcome home!’ Tammy purred as she threw her arms over Tia pulling her into a steely embrace.
‘Let me look at you. When Harry said you might be coming home, I couldn’t believe it. Now we’ll be able to catch up on all that girly gossip – it’ll be like old times again. But first things first, we simply have to get you out of that hideous dress. You look like a tramp, darlin’.’
Tammy trilled with laughter, exuding the coldness that seemed always to be in her heart from her eyes. As Tia politely tried to free herself from Tammy’s suffocating grip, it crossed her mind that for as long as she could remember, Tammy had always been a bitch. A bitch if she didn’t get something, a bitch if she did.
They’d been close once, really close, and she would’ve done anything for her but Tammy had never acted like the same could be said of her. Tammy was selfish and so often mean, but Tia had always made some excuse for her behaviour.
But the real breaking point between the two of them had come last year when Tia’s youngest child, Lily, who’d only just turned six, had been rushed into hospital after falling off a slide and smashing her head.
It had been touch and go for a while and the surgeons had had to rush her into surgery. She’d tried to get in contact with Harry and she’d tried to get in contact with Tammy but she hadn’t been able to get in touch with either.
After a long, difficult night waiting to see if Lily would pull through, she’d come home exhausted from the hospital to get a fresh change of clothes, riding in the back of a filthy mini-cab.
She’d walked into the front room and what greeted her was a pair of size-eight La Perla knickers on the floor and a semi-clad Tammy entwined in her husband’s arms. When they’d seen her standing there, Tammy had just lit a cigarette and told her how tired she looked.
And now, as Tammy stood smiling at her, Tia just shook her head. Rather than feeling anger towards her, Tia pitied her, because she was a fool if she thought that having Harry Jacobs would bring her any sort of pleasure. She knew well enough that Harry destroyed everything he came into contact with, and soon enough he’d destroy Tammy too. Yes, Tammy Owens, her twin sister, had a lot to learn.
4
‘Where we going?’ Sasha said sullenly as she looked at Wan from under her dark fringe. Immediately annoyed by the question, Wan grabbed her face, squeezing it hard so he could feel her jawbone pressing into his fingers.
He was already pissed off by what had happened to Sophie. A girl OD’ing was a pain, to say the least. Getting rid of a body was even more of one, and that wasn’t even taking into account the fact they’d be a girl down now.
Still, like his brother and his father had always taught him, these girls were supposed to be disposable. Easy come, easy go. There’d always be another girl around the corner after all.
Faceless girls that nobody cared about. Runaways. Girls that no one would come looking for. Girls who’d been kicked out of their homes, girls who’d just come out of care. But the best kind of girls were the ones who’d already been abused so what he was asking of them, well, it had already become second nature to them. Oh yes, these girls were head and shoulders above the rest.
But that still didn’t stop him from being irritated by the fact that Sophie had accidentally topped herself. Although she was new, the punters had clearly liked her. She was part of the latter group. Abused and unwanted, which had made it straightforward for him. A few kind words, a little bit of attention, a roof over her head and that had been basically it. It was all he’d needed to do to make her willing, willing to do whatever it was that was asked of her as long as she’d been fed some cocaine, which she’d taken to like a duck to water.
It was always helpful when they liked the taste of powder and the pills. Sophie couldn’t get enough of it – clearly in hindsight too much of it. Unlike some of the girls who seemed to think that when he gave it to them he was trying to give them arsenic, Sophie had nostrilled it up like there was no tomorrow.
It was important that when he needed the girls to work for him they were high. That way they were loose, they didn’t become frigid and tighten up, especially when they were being passed around a party. The last thing he needed was an uptight little bitch. It was bad for business. Plus, it helped them forget. The less they remembered, the better.
Though what he didn’t like was the fact that Sophie had been the second girl recently who’d overdosed, and as much as they were disposable, he didn’t want them falling like flies. More to the point, he was worried that the cocaine was too high a grade, too pure, though he’d been assured it wasn’t, or that it was bad shit. The last thing he needed was to be letting the girls take what ironically was lines of arsenic.
Turning his thoughts back to Sasha, Wan growled, ‘Don’t question me. When I say we’re going somewhere, that’s all you need to know. You understand?’
Sasha, dressed in a skimpy white dress that skirted her pert bottom, nodded as she stared glassy-eyed at Wan.
‘Good. Now get in the van,’ said Wan as he stood surrounded by two of his henchmen in the private car park of his restaurant.
In the back of the blacked-out van, there were already two other girls sitting, spaced out on mats on the floor. Seeing Sasha hesitate, he gripped her arm, dragging her towards it. ‘Get the fuck in. I haven’t got time for this.’
‘I … I … I just don’t want to go after last time.’
Wan lunged for her, pulling her hair and twisting it around in his hand, causing her to let out a screech. He stared at her, his face inches away from hers. ‘No one asked you to be here, Sasha. You’re here of your own free will, remember that.’
‘I know, I just don’t like it, that’s all. I don’t like the parties. The men, they smell and, well, they’re old.’
He continued to glare at her as he let go of her hair. ‘You’re not marrying them, so what’s the problem?’
Sasha, who was barely five foot tall but tottering on high heels, looked up at Wan with tears in her eyes. ‘I just—’
He interrupted, his cockney accent sounding stronger than normal. ‘Do I put a roof over your head, Sash? Do I feed you? Let you eat in my restaurants anytime you like? Order anything you want? Do I give you money to go out and about? To shop, to get your nails done? Even get your fucking hair extensions done?’
‘Yeah.’
He took her face in his hands again, only this time, he stroked it gently. ‘Well then, what’s the sour look for? All I ask in return, is a few favours here and there. That’s all, and that’s not too much to ask, is it? My girlfriend doing me a favour … Tell me, Sash, who’s treated you better than me?’
Sasha’s green eyes stared up at him mesmerisingly. ‘No one, Wan.’
‘Exactly. No one. You’ve never had a better boyfriend than me, even your mum didn’t want to know you, but I do, Sash. I want you but if you want, you can go back to where you came from. How about that, Sasha? Would that make you happy? You want to go back on the streets? I can take you there. I can take you back to the place I found you. Just say the word … Actually, let’s just cut to the chase and why don’t I take you back now? Save either of us any more heartache.’ He began to pull her towards the gate.
‘No, please! Please! I don’t want to go back. Please, Wan! I’m sorry.’
He shook his head. ‘But I don’t think you are. I think it’d be better if you just went. No hard feelings, hey?’
