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bachelor nights. Strippers, contortionists, mud wrestlers–all of them naked, all of them female, and all of them on his case.

His last memory was of tequila being poured down his throat at three-thirty a.m. and a beautiful Eurasian girl thrusting her breasts into his mouth and begging him to fuck her–an offer he’d turned down. He groaned at the memory.

He’d had two hours’ sleep and now he felt like shit.

Nando was grinning as they both got dressed. ‘You gotta go out in style,’ Nando explained. ‘It’s the only way.’

‘Thanks,’ Vincent said grimly. ‘I doubt if I’ll be able to get it up tonight. You’ve ruined my wedding night.’

‘Once you’re married you don’t have to get it up,’ Nando said, still grinning. ‘Sex takes on a whole new meaning.’

‘Jesus Christ!’ Vincent exclaimed. ‘Why don’t you just stay quiet for once?’

Vincent and Jenna were married in the grounds of the hotel. The flowers, the music, the food–everything was perfect.

At the reception Michael stayed by Dani’s side, shooting dark looks at Dean, who was sitting at another table.

‘Will you stop,’ Dani said, noticing what was going on.

‘Who–me? What’m I doing?’ Michael said innocently.

Earlier, when she’d introduced them, Michael had barely managed a surly hello. ‘I hate that asshole,’ he’d muttered. ‘He’s the prick who kept us apart for seven years.’

‘He was doing what he thought was best for me.’

‘No, Dani,’ Michael had corrected her. ‘He was doing what he thought was best for him.’

Vincent’s bride looked stunning, in a white lace Vera Wang gown. She was surrounded by all her girlfriends, dressed in pink.

‘Man, if I wasn’t married, I’d fuck every one of ’em,’ Nando confided to Vincent, nudging him in the ribs.

‘What else is new?’ Vincent said, shaking his head.

Dani watched her son with love and pride. Her only disappointment was that Sofia was not here to share in this happy family day. It was a source of great sadness to Dani that her wild daughter was roaming round Europe somewhere when she should be at her brother’s wedding.

She observed Michael as he danced with the bride. Still so tall, dark and handsome. A heartbreaker. Her heartbreaker. How she loved him.

What would her life have been like if she’d never met him?

She had no regrets. If they’d never met, she wouldn’t have Vincent and Sofia, so somehow things had worked out for the best.

Chapter Fifty-four

Tuesday, 10 July 2001

‘Where are we going?’ Madison asked.

‘Christ!’ the gunman said. ‘Don’t you ever shut up?’

Loud rap music was blasting, and she was stuck in the back of a strange car with this maniacal asshole. Two other men were in the front. It was too dark to get a good look at them.

It struck her as odd that she’d been singled out. Why? And where had this vehicle come from? Had the gunman been in contact by cellphone with people to come get him?

What about the other two gunmen and the hostages? Something weird was going on, and she couldn’t figure it out.

‘What’ll happen to the people we left behind?’ she asked.

‘That ain’t your concern,’ he said roughly.

‘Will they be freed?’

‘For crissakes!’

She tried to get a better look at the two men in the front. The driver was a big man, with a totally shaved head. His bare arms were festooned with intricate tattoos.

The man sitting beside him had long, greasy hair, and studs in his nose and ears. That’s all she could see.

I’m not frightened, she told herself. I’m not scared. I’m my father’s daughter, and he’d expect me to be strong. So fuck ’em!

But inside she was filled with trepidation.

As far as Jolie was concerned the situation was heading from bad to worse. Not only did she have Darren eyeballing her with a lecherous twist to his thin Snoop Doggy Dogg lips, but now the two men had set out several lines of coke on a glass-top table, and a couple of topless girls had wandered in to join the party.

Jolie was offended. She didn’t want to be here, this was not her scene.

She kept on looking over at Nando to see if he’d got the message that she wanted to get the hell out of there. He took no notice of her, he was too busy laughing and bullshitting with the guys. The next thing she knew he was doing a line of coke.

Determined to act with dignity, she stood up. ‘Will you excuse me for a moment?’ she said, tight-lipped.

‘Sure, babe,’ Nando answered, half eyeballing one of the topless babes.

‘The pisser’s on your right,’ Darren offered with a sly smirk. ‘Want me t’take you?’

‘I’m sure I’ll find it,’ she said icily.

She walked out of the room and back into the club, practically bumping into a huge bouncer who was in the process of dragging some hapless drunk towards the door.

Now she was really angry. How dare Nando bring her to such a place? He should have more respect for her. After all, she was his wife.

She glanced up at the stage. It was Open-leg City, girls spreading them like there was no tomorrow.

Shaking her head, she walked to the front entrance. The parking valet who’d taken care of Nando’s car was standing there smoking a cigarette.

She fished in her purse and took out money. ‘Here’s that other twenty my husband promised you,’ she said, handing him a twenty-dollar bill. ‘Can you please bring the car?’

‘Sure,’ the guy said, giving her an appraising once-over as he flicked his cigarette on the ground. ‘The Ferrari, right?’

Tapping her foot impatiently, she watched as a fat man rolled out of the club chortling with amusement. He was holding on to his friend, who staggered over to the side of the kerb and proceeded to puke.

Nice. Very, very nice.

The valet brought the car round and she got in. ‘Oh, by the way, tell my husband when he comes out that he can take a cab.’

And before the parking valet could say a word, she

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