Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
‘Do you go to the races often?’ I ask.
‘Yes. There’s not much to beat spending the whole afternoon and evening watching horses racing and performing at their peak ability.’
‘Is that a good horse to pick?’ I ask pointing to a beautiful black stud with a white star on his forehead.
‘I wouldn’t,’ he replies.
‘No? Do you have a recommendation then?’ I ask curiously. Stella has asked me to place a bet for her too.
‘Last Arabian.,’ he says pointing to a gleaming brown horse tossing its head proudly.
‘How much should I put on it?’ I ask.
‘Everything you’ve got,’ he says seriously.
My mouth drops open in astonishment. I lean forward and whisper. ‘Are you saying the races are fixed?’
‘Not all, but that one is.’
I stare at him in disbelief. He is so beautiful yet so spectacularly foreign to me. ‘How do you fix a match in this day and age?’
‘Pay the other jockeys to throw the race.’
‘Oh my God,’ I gasp. I have never met anyone who was so relaxed and casual after doing such a criminal thing.
He looks at me curiously. ‘Why are you so shocked?’
‘Of course, I’m shocked,’ I whisper fiercely.
He seems surprised. ‘Why? The most important things in this world are fixed. From gold prices (twice a day) to mortgage rates, to which country gets to host the Olympics. Even the results you see on Google are completely manipulated. It’s all corrupt, but so well hidden that you never know about it.’
‘Why isn’t what you already have enough, Zane? Why do you need more money?’ I ask sadly.
He reaches out a hand and brushes a stray lock of hair away from my cheek. ‘To enter the mafia,’ he says, ‘is to become a shark. The shark must perpetually swim if it is to breathe and therefore exist. We must constantly expand. We must take more than we give, even to the extent of eating our own young.
‘If the mighty empire has to eat its young to expand then it’s not sustainable and must die an agonizingly long and horrible death.’
‘To the contrary in my profession death is usually brutal but quick.’
‘This life you have chosen is so dangerous. I am so afraid for you,’ I whisper, my voice full of dread.
‘I really meant it when I said I’d rather die a violent death as a lion then live forever as a rat in a sewer.
‘I know you said you didn’t have a choice to enter this brutal world, but you have a choice now. You can stop. You can walk away from this life.’
‘This the only life I know, rybka.’
Last Arabian wins his race in the last few seconds. It looks so real. No one could have suspected. I look at Zane and his face is no different than any other gambler there. Shane and Snow don’t stay. Lenny keeps away from me.
We go into the restaurant and eat a five-course delicious meal with an international twist to it. I talk and laugh and put on my happy face. Stella calls and is disappointed that I did not put any money on a horse. I will tell her later about Last Arabian. I know she will understand that I have put, but a foot in Zane’s world and only because it is the only way I know to stay in there long enough to try and pull him out of it.
Twelve
Dahlia Fury
‘You know it is Aleksandr’s birthday tomorrow,’ Olga says when I go downstairs for breakfast.
I look at her in amazement. ‘Oh? He never said anything.’
‘He never does. That is why I am telling you. In case you wanted to celebrate it in some way …’ She lets her voice trail off as she packs the cavity of a duck with herbs and sausage meat and orange slices.
I frown. ‘What usually happens on his birthday?’
She glances at me. ‘Absolutely nothing.’
‘What? Not even a cake with some candles on it?’
‘I’ve been working for Aleksandr for nearly ten years and not once has he celebrated his birthday. I’ve never so much as seen a birthday card arrive.’
I look at her curiously. ‘Why will nobody even send a card?’
She shrugs. ‘Probably because he doesn’t tell anyone it’s his birthday so no one knows to do anything.’
‘How do you know it’s his birthday then?’
‘Well, I saw his passport sitting on his desk one day and peeked into it,’ she confesses.
‘Olga,’ I shout and burst into laughter. Honestly, she is so cute.
She makes a face. ‘It’s not like I harmed anyone. I just wanted to know how old he was.’
‘So how old is he?’
‘He is thirty-four tomorrow.’
I think for a moment. ‘Should I plan something for him, Olga, or is that just going to make him angry that I have been putting my nose where he obviously doesn’t want anybody’s?’
‘It’s up to you, but I could bake a cake if you asked me to,’ she says, looking at me hopefully, willing me to pick up the gauntlet and run with it.