“Oh my god,” I murmur. “This is amazing.”
Holly laughs. “Told you.”
CHAPTER SIX
RAY
I don’t gamble. Not with money, anyway. It’s a mug’s game. But I still get a buzz walking the floor of my casino, watching everyone else lose themselves in it. The noise, the lights, the tension in the air. People come here to feel something, and I built the place to make sure they do.
“Let me get this straight,” Dale says beside me, sounding far too entertained. “You got Wynter a buddy?” I glance at him. He breaks into laughter. “You basically went out and found her a friend.”
I keep my eyes on the gaming floor. “I don’t see the issue. She’s been in London six months and hasn’t made a single friend. I figured it was about time.”
“Why do you care?” I say nothing. Dale grins wider. “Unless you’re trying to make sure she sticks around?”
My jaw tightens. “Why would I care either way? You know I didn’t want her here in the first place.”
He gives me a look. “You protest way too much.”
Before I can tell him to shut the fuck up, a commotion breaks out to my left. One of the security men are grappling with someone near the edge of the floor.
“Mr. Carmichael!” I stare at the youth being held by my security, craning his neck as he shouts and waves frantically. “Mr. Carmichael!”
I narrow my eyes. He can’t be more than eighteen, wearing a tracksuit, with a cap pulled low. One of the young runners, most likely.Bottom of the chain.
I know the type because I used to be him.
“Go and find out what the hell’s going on,” I mutter.
Dale heads over while I stay where I am, watching as security pins the kid still, long enough to march him towards the private lift.
I hate trouble in my places. Especially loud trouble.
A minute later, Dale returns and leans in close. “You’ll want to hear him out,” he says quietly. I look at him. “He says he’s got something for you on Malone.”
By the time I get to my office, the kid is already seated, with my men on either side of him. He starts to rise the second I walk in, but both men shove him back into the chair.
“Mr. Carmichael, thanks for seeing me,” he blurts.
I close the door behind me and take my time crossing the room. “Name,” I demand.
“Jason Wakefield.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
I sigh. “Who do you work for?”
“You,” he says quickly.
I give a short, humourless laugh. “No. You don’t.” I lean back in the chair and study him. “I’ve never seen you before in my life, which means you do not work directly for me. So, I’ll ask again. Who do you work for?”
He swallows hard. “Colin Booth.”
I flick my gaze to Dale. “Call Booth. Tell him to get here. Now.”
Dale is already pulling his phone from his pocket. There are ranks for a reason, and this little prick has got some nerve skipping them. I look back at the kid. “Why are you here?”
