At least this job gave him the chance to get closer to Bruno. They’d done jobs together before, but Dax had never warmed to the guy. Bruno was too hasty for him, Dax preferred a more patient approach. But there was a chance that this time together would teach him more about Bruno and give them the chance to see things from each other’s perspective.

Bruno had advised Mauri against trusting Dax, and he knew that, though he wasn’t supposed to. So there had always been a quiet, unspoken animosity between the two of them. In recent years Bruno seemed to have lightened up, but was prone to bouts of rage. Dax would keep an eye on that, but wasn’t worried in any way. If he had to defend himself against the guy then he had no concerns that he wouldn’t be able to. The only worry was how he would explain the mess to Mauri if it came to that.

They didn’t journey far because the Stark California beach house was perfect for their requirements. Set on a clifftop with the sea on three sides, the land boundary was walled off, gated, covered by cameras and half a mile from the house meaning they were far from visible from the road.

Dax parked and set to work taking the bags from the backseat while Bruno dealt with the difficult cargo. Bruno was a man to be feared, stories of his escapades were legendary and he made no secret of the lives he’d taken.

Any woman who Bruno was romantically associated with was eventually beaten and as such he’d never been married because the women never stuck around for very long. There were stories of illegitimate children knocking around in various corners of the world, but Dax had never met any of them. Those notorious days of Bruno’s legend were gone. Years of drug and alcohol abuse had left Bruno impotent and slow. Not that anyone brought up those afflictions with the gangster directly; not unless they had a death wish.

Noise of scuffling and muffled screams came from downstairs and Bruno’s rumbling deep voice accompanied it. Dax went into his own ensuite shower room and stripped his clothes off to step under the cool spray. He’d wash off the day then go for a swim in the pool and maybe barbeque afterwards. Bruno loved the grill and Maurice had his crew stock the house before they arrived, so he knew they’d be living in luxury for a while.

Trystan’s European excursion would last sixty days and Dax would be under Bruno’s purview until then while they whipped this woman into shape. Having never done anything specifically like this before Dax would have to follow Bruno’s lead, but he was confident because Bruno had experience in everything.

They did grill steaks in the end, and they drank Scotch while smoking cigars as the sun went down. Sometimes Dax was still surprised that this kid who grew up on the streets, fighting other street kids in a ring for money, had access to such opulence, but he knew he’d earned it.

After the sun had sunk they went to bed. Neither of them had much inclination to spend time making small talk and so the next day was spent by them pursuing their own endeavours until they eventually came together on the couch to watch television.

Twenty-four hours after arriving at the beach house Bruno turned off the TV and sat up. ‘Ok, let’s get started.’

‘What’s the play?’ Dax asked.

‘You just watch and learn, son,’ Bruno said and slapped his knee then headed to the basement door.

The three bedroom property had a basement gym, which Dax always used while he was here. This morning he’d gone down and seen that one corner was walled off with drywall, so he’d figured that this was where their captive was being held. But he hadn’t been interested enough to check it out.

He stayed put, letting Bruno retrieve the woman Dax just listened as they ascended the basement stairs. A gasping scream was obscured by the gag that was still in place over the woman’s mouth when Bruno dragged her into the living room. Her hands were bound and a blindfold obscured her view. The female had her hands secured together at her back, they must have been tied tight because her voluptuous breasts were thrust forward. He could examine her figure as much as he liked, she would never know that he had because a blindfold concealed her view of everything.

She wore torn skinny jeans and a now grey tank top which must have at one time been white. Now it was smeared with black grease, muck, and blood, just like her arms, chest, and face. Blood dried on her hairline, neck and around her nostrils, but the injuries were superficial, just cuts and bruises, she’d taken a beating somewhere but nothing which would cause serious or permanent damage.

Bruno propelled her onto the rug in front of the TV and went around behind her. Dax noticed the chipped red nail polish on the toenails of her bare feet and the tattoo on her foot above her arch.

‘I’m going to take this off and give you some answers, ok?’ Bruno said into her ear and she nodded, huffing out sharp breaths through her nose, which was her only available airway. ‘Keep quiet or it goes back on.’

He took off the blindfold, bindings, and the gag, then came around to sit on the couch. Dax remained static in the corner of the couch, one ankle propped up on his knee and his arms spread along the back and arm.

‘Where am I?’ she croaked, blinking into the bright sun shining through from the floor to ceiling windows behind them.

‘Here’s what’s going on,’ Bruno said, the epitome of cool. ‘All you have to do is what you’re told. Don’t ask questions, just follow our orders and you’ll be treated well, very well.’

The corner of one eye was blackened, both were blood shot, and make-up was smeared under her eyes down her cheeks, but she took the time to examine them both, then fixed on him.

‘I know you,’ she exhaled. ‘You’re the Vegas guy… you were with that pervert.’

‘He is Dax Harrow,’ Bruno said, glancing back. ‘He is your new owner.’

This surprised him as much as it did her, but Dax kept his practiced eyes narrowed, assessing her with apathy as though he did this all the time.

‘My… my—‘

‘Your owner dictates your actions, he tells you what to do and where to go. He makes all of the decisions about your life.’

‘Are you sick?’ she asked, in a surprisingly strong voice. ‘Is this a sick joke? Why would I ever—?’

‘Because if you don’t, you’ll spend more time in our basement. We have all the time in the world and we’ll keep on going with this until we get bored, and you don’t want that to happen. So you choose, do what you’re told and have the good life, or don’t and we’ll leave you down there to die, because you will eventually. So, to see how good you are at this, let’s start with something simple, would you like a drink of water?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered and Dax sensed what it cost her.

‘Sit on the floor,’ Bruno said, and she lowered herself down. When she was there, Bruno took a bottle of mineral water from the cooler next to the couch, pulled off the cap, and handed it to her. She gulped it down. ‘Sip.’

Dax didn’t know how long she’d spent at the Stark mansion in LA, but if she’d been deprived of food and water for a few days her stomach would be weak.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked, and looked straight at him. ‘Is this to win favour with your buddy? Where is he? Is he here?’

‘No, he’s not,’ Dax said. ‘But I did warn you that you would be sorry.’

‘He got this in his teeth?’

‘Yes, he did,’ Dax said.

‘He’s crazy. I didn’t go to the cops. I kept my head down and let it go… not that he deserved to get away with what he did to me.’

‘Are you sorry, little girl?’ Dax asked.

‘You’re perverted friend needs help. This isn’t going to solve anything. I’ll press charges, I’ll—‘

‘You don’t need to speak unless you’re spoken to,’ Bruno said.

She began to drink and when she got halfway down the bottle, Bruno took it back and capped it again. ‘See how well that worked? I told you to sit, you complied, and you got a reward.’ Her frown formed slowly. ‘Do you want to eat?’