In Merchant’s manicured hand is a small remote device linked to the casino’s roulette wheels. He dials up the table number, presses a button, then sucks in another hit from his bong.
‘Six black.’
Sia’s forehead collides with her husband’s shoulder. ‘ Fubishit! Where’s my goddam drink? Can we get something to drink here?’
A nubile waitress with salmon skin approaches, her gold nipple rings glittering beneath an overhead light. In drug-induced English, dripping with a Jersey accent, she manages, ‘Caligula wit’ a twist, right honey?’
Sia downs the cream-colored liquid, barely registering the flame in the pit of her empty stomach. Sylvia Cabella-Diaz has not eaten or slept in thirty-one hours.
‘Sia?’
‘Red again, Danny. Everything we’ve got.’
‘You sure?’
‘Just do it.’
Danny pushes the pile of chips across the emerald green felt.
Two floors up, Ben Merchant fingers the BLACK key again on his palm-sized remote.
Sia’s heart pounds like a timpani drum. She watches the steel ball jump across the wheel’s plastic spokes, slowing on the red, stopping on ‘Nineteen, black.’
‘ Fubishole! ’ The twenty-six year-old’s forehead strikes the padded cushion in front of her.
Danny slides off the chair, the room spinning in his head as if he’s on a merry-go-round. ‘Oh, God, Sia, what are we gonna do? I’m dead. I’ll lose my job for sure. I could go into exile-’
Across the table, a pit boss listens intently as Ben Merchant’s commands are whispered through his ear piece.
‘I hate this place, Danny. I told you Friday we should have checked out.’
‘Excuse me? You’re the one who-’
‘Mr. and Mrs. Diaz?’
Sia looks up at the pit boss through bloodshot eyes. ‘What the hell do you want? Haven’t you vampires sucked enough of our blood for one night?’
‘My manager would like a word with the two of you. In private.’
‘What for?’
‘I believe it concerns your room charges. If you’ll follow me please.’
Danny shoots his wife a worried look. She shrugs, too weak to protest. ‘What can they do?’
They follow the pit boss across the casino floor to a private door hidden among the satin vermilion drapes.
The hydraulic door hisses open. ‘Up the stairs, please.’
‘What’s up the stairs?’
‘My manager. Now please, ma’am-’
A brass spiral staircase beckons. Sia goes first, her husband right behind her, the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Ben Merchant is waiting for them atop the landing, a Cheshire cat smile splitting his pasty complexion. ‘Well, good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz.’ The heavy Louisiana drawl is as cheery as it is false.
‘About the room charges… can you just bill us? I promise we’ll-’
‘Tut-tut… all room charges have already been taken care of.’
Sia looks at Danny, then back at Merchant.
‘The two of you are lucky, very lucky indeed. It seems someone up there likes you.’ Merchant points a manicured finger toward the ceiling. ‘A guardian angel.’
‘I don’t understand,’ says Sia. ‘Who are you?’
‘The name’s Merchant, Benjamin Merchant, but you, dear Sylvia, may call me Ben. I have been and remain the private secretary and personal confidant of Mrs. Lucien Mabus, but for tonight, I’ll be your exclusive escort as you venture upward to Paradise Lost.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Paradise Lost, darlin’. A wondrous place just north of heaven. Come, dear cherubs, your chariot awaits.’ Merchant leads them down a short hall to a private glass elevator. ‘This lift will take you straight to the penthouse. Mrs. Mabus’ll be waiting for you there.’
‘Mrs. Mabus wants to see us?’
‘Nothing to fear, Danny Boy. Like I said, this is your lucky day. All your financial woes are about to disappear.’
Danny looks at Sia, then back to Merchant, who is holding the elevator door open, beckoning them in. The couple enters.
‘Bon voyage.’ The doors close on Merchant’s smile, sealing them in darkness.
‘Danny?’ Sia grabs his arm as the lift races skyward.
The elevator stops before they can exhale. The doors part.
Sparkling before them-the Miami skyline-a tapestry of mirrored skyscrapers blazing in rainbows of neon beneath a clear autumn night. Mesmerized, they step out onto the polished onyx-marble floor.
The elevator door hisses closed behind them.
‘Hello?’ Uncertain, they leave the alcove and enter a living room, the plush carpet the color of sable, the leather furniture and wraparound bar done in various shades of red. Immense bay windows wrap around 360 degrees.
‘I’m Lilith.’
Danny turns to see a woman pouring drinks behind the bar. The vixen’s skin is chocolate, her hair the color of pitch, long and wavy, trailing down her back. ‘Lucien wishes he could be here to greet you, but he’s been sick lately, poor dear.’
Danny’s eyes widen as she walks around the bar, handing them each a glass. Lilith is wearing a see-through negligee, her dark breasts and shaved crotch pressing against the sheer fabric. She motions them to a couch. ‘So the two of you are newlyweds?’
‘Uh, yes. Just married three days ago.’
‘Four.’ Sia shoots him an elbow, disrupting his gaze. ‘How long have you and Mr. Mabus been married?’
‘Just long enough to want him dead.’ A high, piercing cackle as she turns her sociopathic gaze toward Sia. ‘Thank Satan for vibrators, eh girl.’
Danny focuses his attention on Lilith’s exposed brown nipple, drooling like an intoxicated mouse eyeing the cheese.
‘It’s late,’ Sia stutters, feeling out of her element.
‘The night is young,’ Lilith purrs, ‘but you’re worried about something.’
‘We lost a lot of money. Danny borrowed from his expense account.’
‘Sia!’
‘Now, now, we’re all family here at the Mabus. Tell me, Daniel, how much did you lose tonight in our little lion’s den of inequity?’
Danny breaks eye contact. ‘I don’t know. Everything we had left.’
‘Sia’s ring, too?’
Danny nods, his emotions welling.
‘And all of your savings?’ Lilith Mabus-so endearing-like a priest at confession.
‘The credit card. Our wedding gifts.’ Danny pinches tears from his sleep-deprived eyes.
Sia eyes shoot daggers at Lilith as the vixen circles the coffee table to sit next to her husband.
‘Daniel, scoot closer and place your hand on the coffee table’s access pad.’
He complies, the woman’s scent filling his nostrils, wondering what he’d do if Sia wasn’t in the room.
‘Computer, access the financial statement of Mr. Daniel Diaz.’
A holographic account ledger appears above the pewter coffee table. Danny’s eyes widen in disbelief.
The neon blue credit balance at the bottom indicates a recent deposit of $200,000.
‘I think that should more than cover your losses.’ Lilith sits back on the cushion.
