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My heart begins to race. Even though I don’t see him, I know that I am in the same room with Sergey Molidak. Mr. Peak leads me around to the back of the room. The first thing I see are four large men wearing sunglasses. They stick out right away because they seem to be about a foot taller than most of the men in the room. I look down at the table next to these gorillas. I see an animated man rocking back and forth yelling at the other gamblers -Sergey.
“I told you I was going to win that one, motherfucker!” Sergey yells as we approach the table. As Mr. Peak says, only men are gambling. The very well-dressed, beautiful and quiet women stand behind their men.
My boss takes his seat. He places his bag on the table. He says something in French. One of the casino execs opens the bag. Everyone looks inside. The bag is stuffed with 500 Euro notes. Oh my God! How much was Mr. Peak walking around with?
The casino man takes the bag from the table. A co**cktail waitress asks my boss for his order. She walks off. Sergey doesn’t seem to notice my boss just yet. The dictator’s son is still very much into his own game.
I look at the table. Every player is betting with ten thousand, twenty-five thousand and fifty thousand dollar chips. I see plaques with one hundred thousand and five hundred thousand denominations. Fuck, these guys are playing with some real money.
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 f**k 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 co**cktail waitress in the as**s. 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 f**k. 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, f**k 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 di**ck 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 atboth Sergey and me.
The arrogant winner grabs my arm and spanks my as**s. “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.
