It's not a bar and you know it.

Alex stilled, staring at the screen. The camera must have been up high, in the corner of a ceiling or something, because it gave an excellent view of a dark-haired teenage boy walking toward the doors of a men's bathroom, another, taller man walking behind him.

There was no sound, but Alex knew exactly what was happening. The precise words the boy said as he stopped abruptly, turning to the man behind him to ask something. And the man's response before the guy turned the boy round roughly and shoved him through the doors into the bathroom.

The video kept playing as another man placed himself casually in front of the doorsa guard.

You're mine. He can't touch you.

He tried to keep breathing, tried to keep his muscles from tensing. And he might have succeeded if another man hadn't suddenly come into view, standing in front of the guard, talking to him. A familiar man. Black haired and tall. He began to gesture at the guard as if he was having an argument with him, wild, angry movements.

A weight like the foot of a skyscraper pressed down on Alex's chest, forcing all the air from his lungs. Suffocating him.

The man tried to shove the guard out of the way, but the guard came back with a right hook catching the dark-haired man in the face, knocking him completely to the floor. He lay there for a long moment, and as he slowly got back to his feet the guard pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it him.

For a long moment the man stared at the guard. Then he turned away, his face at last fully turned toward the camera. The picture quality was terrible, his features unclear, but Alex knew who he was all the same.

It was his father.

Katya's mind raced as she tried to make sense of what was happening in the video on the laptop. As she tried to make sense of the whole of the last ten minutes.

Alex was sitting beside her, rigid. As if he were watching his own death playing out on the screen in front of them.

"I assume you spotted your father?" Conrad asked. "He tried to stop it, as you can see. With no success alas. But then Daniel was always something of a coward."

Alex said nothing and the video abruptly switched to another view, this time a white-tiled bathroom.

A deep foreboding began to uncoil inside her.

There was a man in the shot, roughly turning a teenage boy around to face the mirrors. Then pushing him down and pressing his face against the white china of the sink.

Oh God ...

Alex leaned forward and closed the laptop with a calm, measured movement.

"Oh," Conrad said, sounding smug. "Are you sure you don't want to see any more? Might help you refresh your memory."

I took your virginity in a casino bathroom ...

How you came in my mouth when I sucked you off....

Katya found herself gripping the arms of her chair tightly.

"Or even," Conrad went on in the same tone, "Miss Ivanova might like to see? I understand some ladies appreciate men together as men appreciate women together."

Katya had always believed no one actually ever deserved to die. Yes, she'd taken lives, had killed three men in the course of a mission. Men who were only soldiers doing their duty just as she was doing hers in killing them. She had felt remorse for what she'd done and yet she'd accepted it as part of a soldier's lot. Her father had no patience for conscience anyway.

But staring into Conrad South's cold hazel eyes she changed her mind. Some people did deserve to die and die painfully. And if Alex didn't want her gun, she'd shoot South herself.

South wasn't even looking at her now, his gaze focused entirely on Alex.

Who was still sitting back in his chair, one foot resting on his opposite knee. He had one elbow on the chair arm, his chin in his hand, while his other hand was resting on his thigh. His posture was relaxed like he was sitting in a bar, having a drink with friends.

But the expression on his face, the skin was pulled tight to the immaculate bone structure beneath it, made pain start in her chest. His eyes glittered in the light, sharp and brittle as glass.

"I'm sure Miss Ivanova doesn't need to see it," Alex said, his voice deceptively mild. "It's ancient history anyway. Call it a moment of youthful insanity." He didn't look at her, watching Conrad instead. "You promised me he wouldn't ever know."

Down the other end of the table, Conrad smiled. "I'm sorry, son, but he already knew. He knew even before I took you."

Alex said nothing, motionless in his chair.

"He had nothing to pay his debts with. And then I told him I wanted you." Conrad toyed with the cards. "He agreed. Clearly he felt bad about it, though. Maybe that's why he shot himself? At any rate, I'm sure he appreciated your sacrifice, as that security tape proved."

Katya went cold all over. Alex had mentioned his father's suicide but not that he'd shot himself.

Blood all over the bathroom and she wouldn't wake up, no matter how loud Katya screamed.

"So that's all you have?" Alex's voice had sharpened. "A security tape?"

Katya ignored the cold grip of memory, focusing on Conrad.

"A security tape with the whole incident on it," the other man amended gently.

"Aw, you kept it. How touching."

"Insurance, son. When I have something on someone, I like to keep it in case of a rainy day."

"Yet you're willing to put this on the table?"

Conrad sat back in his chair. There was a brandy glass beside him and he picked it up, swirling the amber liquid around inside it. "Your Circle clubs are a big draw. And I confess to liking the idea of remodeling them into something more suitable. Or maybe even demolishing them, I haven't quite decided yet. Anyway, I had to find something decent to match it."

"The tape is not enough," Alex said coldly.

"Son, I think this tape is more than enough. Because you're desperate for this tape. I think you'd sell your soul for this tape. This is the only hard copy and the only digital copy is the one on that computer. If you win, both are yours. And you can get rid of them once and for all." He took a sip of the brandy. "Or maybe not. Maybe you'd like to keep them to view for your own pleasure."

Alex was silent for a moment, his expression so impenetrable that even Katya had no idea what he was thinking, and she was getting good at reading him. "I want more, Conrad. I put my livelihood and my body on the table, and all you're giving me in return is a fucking tape?"

"It doesn't have to be the only copy." The other man's voice was calm. "I could make sure there are copies everywhere."

Alex laughed, the sound brittle as the blue of his eyes. "Go ahead. It wouldn't be the only sex tape of mine that's been uploaded onto the Internet. I'm sure most people wouldn't give a shit."

"Oh, most people wouldn't...." Conrad paused. "But your sister might. And so might your mother."

Cold fingers closed around Katya's heart. She'd never hated anyone as much as she hated the man sitting opposite Alex right now. The man slowly peeling apart Alex's past and exposing it to the light of day.

Alex made no move, betrayed absolutely nothing of what he was feeling. But Katya could sense the rage seeping from him.

I took your virginity in a casino bathroom ...

What had happened to him had hurt. And no matter what he told her, it was hurting him still. Why else hadn't he wanted her to go down on him last night? Why had his muscles felt so tense? Why he hadn't wanted to let go?

The heavy, suffocating feeling in her chest grew into a deep, nagging ache. She wanted to help him. Grab her gun and protect him, kill the man hurting him. Anything to stop the pain, take it away. But what could she do? This was Alex's fight, not hers.

She swallowed, her hands closing on the little black velvet clutch, feeling the reassuring outline of her Springfield. They'd both agreed before they arrived that she would hand him the gun at the right moment. But it wouldn't take much to get it out now. A couple of seconds and then it would all be over. She'd make sure she wouldn't miss.

Alex sighed, a long-suffering sound. "Fucking families. Maybe you're right. Maybe just to be on the safe side, I should have the tape."

Conrad smiled. "I thought you'd see it my way." He reached for the pack of cards again.

"But you're not getting either me or my clubs if you don't put the Horsemen on the table too," Alex said clearly.

The other man froze, looking down the table at Alex. "You didn't hear me when I said I'd show your mother and sister?"

"I heard." Alex's voice was like ice. "And you'll know that I haven't seen either of them for nineteen years. So you tell me, why would I give a shit what you showed them?"

"But you want the tape. You just said-"

"The Horsemen, Conrad. Stake it. Or I'm taking the Circles clubs off the table."

A heavy silence fell, the two men staring at each other.

There was something deadly between them, a game full of spikes and barbs and sharp, cutting edges. A game where any wrong move could eviscerate an opponent or you might end up cutting yourself open instead.

Or an observer like her.

Helplessness welled up inside her. Like that moment when she'd stood beside a bath full of red water and shaken the woman lying in it. Then tried to bind the gashes in her wrists with towels. But nothing had worked. She was already dead.

Slowly, Alex leaned back in his chair, not taking his gaze from Conrad's. "Of course it's up to you," Alex said into the silence. "But if you want me, you're going to have to work for me. I'm not giving it up for free anymore, old man."

The tension in the room, already taut, kicked up another notch.

Conrad's cold hazel eyes glittered. Abruptly he lifted a shoulder. "Fine. I'll throw in the Horsemen. Now, I assume you don't mind if I deal?"

This time Alex didn't smile. "Not at all. Deal, you fucker." He shifted in his seat, and as he did so he very casually leaned over and put his hand over hers where it rested on her clutch. He didn't look at her, but he must have picked up on her own tension and was trying to reassure her.

The warmth of his hand felt good, the tension in her arm slipping away. No, of course she couldn't shoot Conrad right now, not when Alex wasn't finished with him.

Alex removed his hand, picked up his tumbler, and sipped from it. Katya couldn't bring herself to touch her own wine, a dull nausea collecting in her stomach at South's gall.

The things South had said, seeking to undermine, to shock. To hurt. That tape. Alex's father, who'd known all along what was happening to his son ...

Bastard. South was a bastard. And yes, he deserved to die.

Yet still her hands tightened on her Springfield as he dealt out the cards. She didn't know what poker variant they were playing, but it seemed to involve discards and more cards being dealt.

Alex glanced down at his cards. His expression didn't change as he discarded something from his hand, then put the rest down. He looked at Conrad, pinning him with his gaze like he was trying to burn the man to ash.

Katya knew the feeling.

Conrad glanced at his cards too and chuckled. "Oh, son, you better prepare yourself. I'm thinking this table might be a fine place to start the evening. What do you think?"

More outright psychological warfare.

Alex raised a brow. "Does this mean you're folding?"

"Not at all." Conrad dealt himself another card, then discarded. "I'm just pointing out that you may want to fold yourself. To prevent any more humiliation."

"Oh, I don't think so." Alex tapped the table for another card.

"Are you sure you want to do that? The odds are lousy."

"The odds are always lousy. That's why it's balls that count."

The older man gave a short laugh that almost sounded genuine. "Fuck, boy. Looks like you've learned a thing or two."

"A lot can happen in nineteen years. Now deal me the fucking card."

Conrad did so, and as Alex looked at it Katya felt the tension draw tighter.

He's going to lose.

She didn't know where the thought had come from, since he gave absolutely nothing away, but nevertheless, she could sense it.

Surreptitiously she glanced down at her lap and moved one hand, reaching into the special compartment built into her purse where her gun was. Her fingers closed around the grip, the metal cool against her skin. A reassurance.

This game would be over one way or another, but she would make damn sure that Alex didn't go down with it.

Alex discarded.

Conrad was smiling, openly triumphant. "I was hoping this might go on for longer, but hell, all good things must come to an end. And maybe it's for the best. You and I need to get an early start, since I have plans for you, son. Big plans." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm calling."

Alex had gone very still, his expression tight.

Oh God, he had lost.

Her heart climbed into her throat. She tried to breathe and relax because otherwise her hand was going to shake and when she pulled the gun she might miss.

Alex laid his cards down.

The smile disappeared from Conrad's face.

A full house lay spread on the table.

Conrad had been right. The odds were lousy. But Alex'd had a shit hand right from the start and only playing those odds were going to win him the game. If it had been just any game, he would have folded. But this wasn't just any game, and although he had Katya's gun he wanted to win. He wanted to win everything.