‘One day,’ Sharon joked with Tony, ‘Miss Right will come along, and that will knock you off your high horse.’ She’d laughed about it with Jake, but they both agreed it would have to be one hell of a woman to maintain Tony’s interest. Did she even exist?

Tony never let his private life interfere with business, however many women had stayed over the night before. He always seemed to be showered and ready to get to work first thing in the morning. He’d had a good night’s entertainment, but now it was over, it was back to business.

Tony would discard the women as quickly as possible, and try his hardest to get them to leave. He would hand over some money for a taxi or get his driver to drop them off at home. If they were especially stubborn, he would more or less throw them out of the door. Already, while waving them off, he would have Jake in the kitchen, talking about the day’s business.

It did make Jake laugh to himself, because sometimes these women were hardly given the chance to dress. One even left in Tony’s dressing gown once. Sharon had shrugged her shoulders when Jake told her. ‘They know what he is, Jake, they’re adults, and if they’re prepared to come back for more and be thrown out in the morning, well, that’s their problem.’

Jake knew she was right, of course, but he felt something was missing from Tony’s life. He was always striving to do better and better, and not let anyone or anything get in his way. As much as he liked the ladies, he had even laughed about them one night while having a drink with Jake. ‘They’re all the same, Jake, each and every one of them wants her hands on my club and my bank balance. No one wants Antonias, they all want Tony, club owner, millionaire. They’re all gold-diggers, so why shouldn’t I take advantage of it? I like sex, and I would be a fool to turn it down.’

Meanwhile, there was always business to take care of. There were other pub bosses and up-and-coming guys who fancied themselves as gangsters, and they all had to be dealt with in Tony’s own professional, psychopathic manner.

At one point, having heard that some of these would-be gangsters had been mouthing off about Tony only being interested in the women and taking his eye off the ball when it came to business, he had gone into a pub he knew they drank in, one lunchtime, with Jake and a machine gun. When they got there, only the landlord and the would-be gangsters were in the place. He opened fire, waving the gun around, and shot the place to pieces. While firing at the walls and the furniture, and blowing the pub to bits, he watched these men cowering behind the bar and under tables.

Tony had walked behind the bar and stared at the three men hiding there. One fumbled around in his pocket and took out a knife. Tony’s eyes had darkened and his charming smile became a grim sardonic smirk. He knelt down beside the man and ripped his own shirt open.