The Highest Stakes of All by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online Page B

happening but take no part in it, and where her voice could not be heard.
    Aware, but isolated. But still able to think. To reason.
    The queen of hearts …
    At first she told herself that it must be a joke. That no one could possibly win another human being for a bet, however large.
    Sooner or later, she thought painfully, this ghastly humiliation would come to an end, and she and her father would be allowed to leave, even if all they took with them was their freedom to do so. Because they were in worse trouble than they’d ever been in their lives, as Gaston Levaux’s tight-lipped presence only confirmed.
    We don’t just owe the hotel, she realised. There’s also Mrs Van Dyne, who may not be very happy when she finds out what a total mess we’re in.
    But I mustn’t think like that. When we’re out of here, we can work something out. Denys will bounce back somehow, as he always does. I’m sure of it. I’ll really ask Monsieur Levaux to find me a job in the kitchens or as a chambermaid. Something. Anything. And we’ll survive. We always have before.
    She forced herself to lift her chin, trying to appear unconcerned as she focussed once again on the events taking place in front of her. Trying, also, to ignore a cold, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she saw Vassos Gordanis reach for his cheque and quite deliberately tear it into small pieces, before placing the fragments in his ashtray and setting fire to them.
    As she observed him summon Gaston Levaux and issue low-voiced instructions which she could not hear, but which, some instinct warned, concerned Denys and herself.
    As she watched the other players get to their feet, shaking hands with their host and each other, but avoiding even a sideways glance at her or at her father, who remained motionless in his chair, his head buried in his hands.
    Behaving, she thought, in a way that suggests they’re too embarrassed to acknowledge our continuing presence in the room.
    And she began to realise, as fear stirred within her, that the outcome of the evening might not be as simple as she’d hoped, or tried to believe.
    As Chuck passed her, she impulsively caught at his sleeve. ‘Help me.’ Her voice was a thread. ‘Help me—please.’
    ‘Nothing doing, honey.’ He detached himself firmly from her clasp. ‘I’m a married man, and I know what my wife would say if I turned up with a cute little number like you.’ He paused. ‘Besides, if you can’t stand the heat, you should’ve stayed out of the kitchen.’
    But I didn’t choose to be in the kitchen, she thought as she watched him leave with the others and turned to her father, who was still sitting, slumped in defeat.
    Do something, she cried out to him in silent desperation. Say something. Stop all this now. Because you can’t let it happen to me. You can’t …
    She saw Gaston Levaux approach him, accompanied by one of the quiet men from the Gordanis entourage. Saw them help him to his feet, making him walk between them to the door. Away from her. Abandoning her to the mercy of this stranger on the other side of the table. Which could well be no mercy at all.
    And, somehow, she managed at this moment of crisis to find her voice at last.
    ‘Don’t go.’ It was almost a scream as she jumped to her feet, preparing to follow. ‘Don’t leave me. Please …’
    She saw Denys turn and look back at her, his face grey, his eyes hopeless in a way she’d never known before.
    He has to tell them, she thought wildly. He has to tell them the truth about me. Gaston Levaux isn’t a bad man. When he knows I’m Denys’s daughter, and not his niece or something worse, he’ll talk to this Vassos Gordanis. Make him see reason. Make him understand that he has to let me go.
    I’ll go after them—talk to Monsieur Levaux myself. Persuade him to help.
    She took two steps towards the door, only to be halted in her tracks by a bulky figure in front of her.
    ‘Your time with the man Vernon is over, thespinis.’