Master & Student (The Billionaire's Way) Book 2 (5 page)

As the waitress comes back with the drinks, the casino exec - who took Mr. Peak’s bag - returns with a rack of 100,000 Euro betting plaques. Good grief. I count fifty bars. Yes, my boss just walked into the Monte Carlo Casino with 5 million Euros. That’s about six and half million dollars. Wow.

I look down at the Baccarat table. The men are betting on whether the “Banker” or the “Player” will have the highest hand. Each man is betting an average of 50,000 Euros per hand. My boss starts with a 100,000 bet.

I am so nervous, even though this is not my money and 100,000 Euros is not even a day’s pay for Mr. Peak. The first hand is dealt. Mr. Peak wins! I almost jump up and down for my man who barely moves an inch.

After the hand is dealt, Sergey looks up at me. He points at Mr. Peak. “Hey, you like young girls. I like young girls! We have something in common!” the brash young guy says as he tosses 200,000 Euros for his next bet. My boss decides to up the ante and bet 300,000.

The next hand is dealt. My boss bets the “Banker” and loses. Sergey wins his bet. The dictator’s son immediately begins to laugh at Mr. Peak. “Ah, your girl won’t fuck you if you keep losing money like that.”

I can see my boss’s face getting red. I can’t tell if he is acting or if he really is getting pissed. Mr. Peak puts 400,000 Euros down for his next bet. Sergey puts down 500,000 Euros. The next hand is dealt. Mr. Peak loses. Sergey wins.

“Ha! Ha! I have made over four million Euros in thirty minutes! I love Monte Carlo!” Sergey yells as he slaps a cocktail waitress in the ass. I laugh and smile. Sergey looks at me. The dictator’s son wiggles his tongue out at me. My boss balls his hands into a fist. Oh fuck. I think Mr. Peak is going to go after this guy!

“Hey faggot!” Mr. Peak booms at Sergey, as the rest of the table freezes. “Go ahead and wiggle your tongue out at my woman again. Go ahead and try that young man.”

Sergey stands up and yells, “Fuck you, fuck your mother. She is a whore. I take your money and I take your bitch if I want!”

At this point even Sergey’s bodyguards are trying to calm the dictator’s son down. My boss is gritting his teeth. Dammit. I wish I knew if Mr. Peak is putting on an act. He looks like he is about to go thermonuclear.

The arrogant Sergey places five 100,000 plaques on the table. Mr. Peak takes ten plaques and slams them down on the “banker” bet. Has my boss lost his mind?! A million Euros is one and a half million dollars. This is insane!

Sergey gets to deal the cards. The hand is dealt. My boss loses. Sergey wins. “Ha! Ha! You lose, motherfucker!” the young Sergey yells at my boss. The dictator’s son looks at me and smiles. I’m supposed to seduce him. My boss looks like he is ready to kill the dictator’s son.

My head is ready to explode. I’m too scared to move.

“Hey, woman. Your man is going to be sucking dick for his dinner at the end of the night. You better come with me,” Sergey says as he looks directly into my eyes.

The entire table looks at me. My boss looks up at me. I take a step and walk towards Sergey. The dictator’s son laughs. I continue my charade. Mr. Peak’s eyes are burning at
both
Sergey and me.

The arrogant winner grabs my arm and spanks my ass. “Your bitch is now my bitch!” Sergey yells to Mr. Peak at the top of his voice. I stare at my boss who balls up his fist and slams it down on the table, sending 100,000 Euro betting plaques flying. Women jump back. Sergey’s bodyguards rush towards my boss.

Mr. Peak eyeballs the four monster bodyguards. He looks like he is ready to throw down. A handful of worried Casino execs come between them. My boss grabs his betting plaques and storms off.

I awkwardly stand there for a moment. Sergey looks up at me and grabs my hand, positioning me right behind him. “You will be my good luck charm tonight,” the dictator’s son says as he places a 700,000 Euro bet on the next hand.

Alright, I know this is going to make me sound like I am completely insane. But I actually find myself complimented by the fact that this nutjob wants me to be his good luck charm. I look around and see six very attractive women in Sergey’s “circle” along with a dozen or so bodyguards.

One of the women in particular is glaring down at me with scorn in her eyes. She is about six feet tall, with brown hair and a very strong looking body. My guess is that I just supplanted her as Sergey’s “favorite bitch.” This is starting to get uncomfortable.

The next hand is dealt. Sergey wins. He grabs his winnings and throws his hands up in the air. Then he pulls me down and kisses me on the mouth. Now that is fucking gross. I almost slapped him. That would have certainly made the evening more interesting.

As I try to get back behind Sergey, that tall blonde woman shoves me out of the way. She grabs the back of Sergey’s chair and just locks herself in behind the young man. I can’t allow this to happen. But what the fuck am I supposed to do? This woman is about seven inches taller than me. She could snap me in two.

I stand to the left of the dictator’s son. He wins a couple of hands and loses a few along the way. Sergey is beginning to get a little bored. Between hands, the young man starts to count his betting plaques. “I have made 2.5 million Euros in the last hour. I fucking love Monte Carlo!” Sergey bellows.

The dictator’s son looks around and yells, “Where is General Zhukov?! I want to show that fucker that I just made his entire annual salary in one hour.” Oh fuck! Sergey can not discover that the General is nowhere to be found. If his bodyguards start to search for the General, then they may find Zhukov with Mr. Peak.
All of our lives are in danger.

The bodyguards stay next to Sergey but they start looking around the VIP area for the General. I need a distraction and I need it fast. I look up at that tall bitch. I look down at that big diamond ring Mr. Peak gave me.

I make a fist, grab the tall bitch by the hair and punch her right in the chin. She goes down. I go down. We begin to fight on the floor. She starts to choke me while I try to claw out her eyeballs. All of the bodyguards struggle to separate us.

The entire VIP room is in shock. Sergey starts jumping up and down laughing like a mad man. “I fucking love it. Two beautiful bitches are fighting over me! This is going to be the best night ever!” 

Sergey orders his bodyguards to grab his betting plaques. The crazy young man looks at me and grabs my hand. The tall model kicks one of Sergey’s bodyguards in the shin and calls him an “Odostan Scumbag.”

“Yeah, well you get out of here you Ukraine whore!” Sergey yells as he throws a 100,000 pound Euro plaque at the girl’s face. The tall woman grabs the plaque and throws her right shoe at Sergey. Then she runs out of the casino.

The dictator’s son loves it. One of the bodyguards looks like he is ready to rip the head off of that tall babe before Sergey stops him. “Forget her. We are going back to my boat to party!” the young man proclaims as he leads me out of the casino.

Sergey and the bodyguards have completely forgotten about General Zhukov. I intend to keep it that way. As Sergey walks out of the casino, I run my hands up and down his back. “I can’t wait to see your Mega-Yacht,” I purr as Sergey smirks with the unearned arrogance of a spoiled trust-fund kid.

A fleet of Mercedes G Series trucks waits for us. Sergey, myself and two bodyguards climb into one of the trucks while the other girls and the other bodyguards pile into the rest of the vehicles.

Damn, I am doing my job a little too well. Sergey is just staring at me like a piece of meat. He runs his right hand up my thigh. I instinctively stop him before he goes too far. He gives me a little slap on the face.

“You don’t act like an uptight bitch to me,” Sergey says as he squeezes my cheek.

Now I get scared. This guy is not afraid to kill anyone. “Let’s wait until we get back to the boat,” I say as I run my fingers through Sergey’s well-groomed hair.

The Mercedes truck doesn’t waste any time getting to the yacht. We stop in about two minutes. The bodyguards open the door and Sergey is kind enough to spank my ass as I exit the vehicle. Good God, this is going to be a long night.

I look out and see this massives ship. It must be at least three hundred feet long. I step onto the gangplank and make my way onto this ship that looks like it belongs in a cruise line. When I step on board, I see a half-naked woman running around the deck. I have no idea if she is high or if she is running for her life. This place is getting surreal.

We walk inside the cabin where this horrible electronic music is pumping. Sergy takes off his jacket and throws it to one of his bodyguards. He grabs my hips and begins to grind against my ass.

I pull myself away. Sergey tries to slap me. I grab his arm and slap him back. Fuck, I can’t believe I did that. “Oh you like to fight?! I like to fight!” Sergey says as he tackles me onto the floor. He begins to kiss my neck and run his hands up my skirt.

I roll off of the young asshole and punch him right in the nose. One of the huge bodyguards begins to laugh. Sergey puts his hand over his nose. Oh fuck, I think I’ve really fucked up this time. I am about to get myself killed.

Sergey stands up. One of his gorilla bodyguards hands him a napkin. He is bleeding a little bit from his nose. The dictator’s son looks at me and smiles. “We are going to have a fun night you crazy little bitch,” Sergey says in a tone that sends a shiver down my spine.

I look at my watch. I have to keep this nutjob occupied for three and a half more hours. How the hell am I going to pull that off?! Think, dammit, think. I walk over to a bar and decide that my best tactic is to get this guy so drunk, he will pass out. Then I can simply sneak off of the boat at 3 a.m.

I grab a bottle of Vodka and open it. I take a sip straight from the bottle. “That is not how you drink vodka!” Sergey yells as he grabs the bottle. The dictator’s son begins to down the entire bottle without coming up for air.

Sergey then throws the bottle across the cabin and walks up to me. He puts his hands around my waist and tries to give me a kiss. I push him away. At this point, some of the other girls walk inside the cabin. Sergey grabs a brunette and begins to make out with her. Good. That gives me a little break from this maniac.

The party continues into the lower deck. Sergey starts to dance with the other girls while I hang back and make sure no one asks about General Zhukov. I check my watch. One hour has passed.

A couple of the girls start to leave the party with the bodyguards. Sergey is really plastered. Hopefully, he will be down for the count any minute now. I walk out of the room and look for more bottles of liquor. I am determined to give that spoiled little asshole alcohol poisoning before this night is over!

I grab as many bottles as my arms and hands can possibly carry. As I walk back into the disco room, I see a woman run out in sheer terror. Oh fuck! What’s going on now. I notice that the music is off. I enter the room and see Sergey, with his shirt off, holding a revolver in his hand.

One of the frightened women is just standing there in the room. She looks like she is about to cry. “You will not play for 300,000 Euros?! Alright, I pay you 400,000 Euros!” Sergey yells.

I have no idea what he is talking about. All I know is that the young woman is about to cry. Suddenly, she runs out of the room. Sergey turns his eyes to me. He points the gun at me and motions for me to come over to him.

My feet feel like they are glued to the floor. “Come! Come!” Sergey yells. I drop one of the bottles. Then, I slowly move towards the dictator’s son. “Put down the bottles,” Sergey orders. I place the vodka bottles on a sofa.

Sergey sits down at a table and orders me to sit in one of the other seats. I sit down. Sergey cradles the gun. “I want to you to play me in Russian Roulette,” the young maniac says. I panic. The young man puts the gun to his head and pulls the trigger. *click.* The gun dosen’t go off. He hands the weapon to me and growls, “Put that gun to your head and pull the trigger.”

“No,” I say.

“I will pay you 300,000 Euros,” Sergey offers.

“No.”

“400,000 Euros.”