A/N: This is not Christmassy fic!


Terry was not having a good morning. From the moment he'd got up, things had been going wrong. Before that, even, because the very first thing he'd seen when he'd opened his eyes had been the dried blood on Tess' face, and that was a source of discomfort and guilt. Much as he'd enjoyed it at the time, he'd gone further than he'd intended to last night. Still, it was difficult to see what else he could have done. If this relationship was going to work - and he certainly intended it should - she needed to learn he meant business. A relationship without respect was doomed to fail.

Besides, she'd seemed fine this morning. Doubtless he was overreacting. Still, perhaps they might go away for the weekend in a month or so. Once he could arrange it so that things wouldn't fall apart in his absence. He would take her to Europe. Indulge her. Maybe, if she continued to meet his expectations, he might even ask her to marry him.

Mmm. He could imagine the pictures in the society pages now. That would put the announcement of their engagement right during the slow season. With enough pictures showing the very best his hotels had to offer, he might be able to get a head start on the competition in the run up to the holiday period. And then the wedding itself would fall the next summer and he had no doubt that could be extremely good for business if he played it right. It was fortunate Tess was quite so photogenic. With the right pictures of her in the right papers, he could easily pick up a larger share of the female demographic. Perhaps he could even lure a few more of the women high rollers away from Bank. That would be something to celebrate.

In the meantime, the morning continued to go badly. He'd actually forgotten, until he got to the office, that he'd fired Marcia last night. Not that he regretted the decision - there was a standard of behaviour he expected from his PA, and questioning his personal life didn't come into it - but it did mean that his day was far more chaotic than he was used to. He would need to see about hiring someone new as soon as possible. It wasn't easy to find someone prepared to put in the hours he expected, and be available to him twenty four seven though. One more thing to be annoyed about. Plus, it seemed that Willy Bank had managed to announce his new deal for platinum players a day before Terry had planned on announcing the exact same offer. Somehow, someone must have told Bank about his plans, but Terry had no idea who.

His lip curled. Whoever it was, they would regret it when he caught up with them.

It set the tone up for the day though, so perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised when Lewis walked up to him and stood, hovering awkwardly, like he would rather be anywhere else in the world right now.

"What?" he asked with mild irritability.

Lewis shuffled his feet like a naughty schoolboy and Terry let his impatience and displeasure show on his face. He had no use for a security employee who was too afraid to share bad news. If there was a problem, he had to know right away, and he was already considering the most likely scenarios. It was a surprise when Lewis slowly said. "It's Ms Halliday."

Tess? He raised an eyebrow. He'd left her barely ninety minutes ago, safe in his bed. "What about her?"

"You asked us to track her and alert you to anything unusual," Lewis continued uncomfortably. "About fifteen minutes ago, she left your suite and made her way around to another hotel room. I've...we've checked, and it's registered to a Mr Declan Marsh."

He took a deep breath, concentrating on managing the anger in front of his staff. Another man's hotel room. She was making a fool of him in front of his people and he could hardly believe it. After last night, she still didn't understand the way things were? She was his. It was time she learned that.

"I see," he said coldly, his eyes daring Lewis to say anything - anything at all. "And then?"

"She left about three minutes later," Lewis went on quickly. "Unfortunately we, uh, lost track of her." He felt a surge of anger at this new evidence of incompetence. "But a man left the room about three minutes after that, and made his way down to the main casino floor. We have a couple of guys tracking him now, if you say the word, we'll have him picked up."

He didn't even have to think about it. This man, whoever he was, had clearly encroached on what was Terry's. There had to be consequences for that. "Do it," he ordered, with a cold smile. "And have them wait for me downstairs. I believe I will take a...personal interest...in this."

"Yes, Mr Benedict," Lewis nodded, and left quickly, looking relieved.

He would deal with this Declan Marsh first. Then, once he had the answers he wanted, he would deal with Tess.


Declan Marsh didn't look like much, Terry considered, as he stood in the doorway, staring at the man where he cowered on a metal chair in the middle of the floor. Mousy hair, shabby clothes, thick glasses and a habit of nervously licking his lips whenever he so much as tried to meet Terry's eyes. An insignificant little man, in short. Completely unimpressive.

And this was what Tess was cheating on him with? If he wasn't so angry, he could almost laugh. There could be no comparison.

And yet Tess had made one. He had offered Tess the sort of life most women dreamed of, he'd shown her the best he had to offer and asked for extremely little in return, and she'd still been seeing this nobody behind his back.

Well, now he wanted her to make another comparison.

"Lewis, fetch a camcorder from the office," he ordered.

He had Lewis, Burns and Eric in with him. All good men. All men who knew how this worked, knew how to be discreet, so he was hardly surprised when they all stared at him in shock. He was mildly surprised when Lewis chose to question him in front of their 'guest'.

"Uh, boss, are you sure?" Lewis asked, and immediately quailed under Terry's glare.

He permitted himself an internal smile at the reaction. Surely that would give Mr Marsh something to think about. "I'm sure," was all he said though. A single recording was easily destroyed. He would be careful. But there were a few things he wanted Tess to understand.

He stood staring at Marsh while he waited, and Marsh stared back, like a rabbit caught in headlights. This had to be the worst day of his life, and Terry had every intention of making sure it got worse.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, once Lewis was back and the camera was running.

"Uh, yes, sir, I do, sir," Marsh stammered, licking his lips nervously. "Listen, I think there's been some sort of mistake - "

" - you've been seeing Ms Halliday, haven't you?" Terry cut in. "You were watching us at dinner the other night."

He was satisfied to see the other's eyes widen dramatically. It had been a guess, but a logical one. And Tess had said she hadn't known him.

Marsh swallowed hard. "It's not like that," he whined. "It's nothing like that, I swear. I know Tess from way back - "

Terry gave a nod and Eric stepped forwards quickly, burying his fist in Marsh's stomach. Marsh stopped talking, with a soft, surprised, oof sound, folding up immediately.

"Oh, God, oh, God, please don't hurt me," he whimpered. "I didn't do anything, I swear it, please."

"I'm afraid," Terry said pleasantly with a quick sideways glance at the camera. "That you need a quick lesson in respect. I want you to understand the consequences of acting against me." The look of absolute helpless terror on Marsh's face gave him a dark thrill and he permitted himself a smile. "Eric? Continue, please."

He let the beating go on for a few moments and Marsh reacted satisfactorily, whimpering pathetically at each punch. They kept it off the face for the most part - maximum impact with minimum chance of permanent consequences, after all - but a couple of stray punches had blood flowing pathetically from Marsh's mouth and cheek. He directed Lewis to zoom in on it, especially when Marsh looked up at him beseechingly, his eyes watery, as though he was going to start crying any moment. "Mr Benedict...Mr Benedict, sir, please."

He held up a hand and Eric stopped at once. "I'm sorry?" he said with mock solicitude. "There was something you wanted to say to me?"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," Marsh burbled wildly. "I just...you have to understand, I didn't do anything, I never even...I just wanted a job!"

"I beg your pardon?" He blinked, startled at the unexpected leap in logic.

"I just wanted a job," Marsh repeated with a hint of sullen defiance, that immediately crumbled to nothing in the face of the glare Terry turned on him. "Sorry, sir. You see, I knew Miss Halliday a few years back...we weren't together, or anything. She wouldn't give me the time of day, but we were friends, at least, and I heard she was with you now, and I thought maybe she could put in a good word for me."

His lip curled. "Really," he said sarcastically, but at the same time, the ridiculous story had the ring of truth to it. "You were just trying to talk her into getting you a job."

Marsh nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir, that's right, sir."

He took a quick couple of steps forwards and made a point of towering over Marsh, who immediately shrank back in his chair. "And did you try and talk her into anything else?" he asked softly.

"N-no," Marsh said, shaking his hand frantically. "No, of course not."

He nodded thoughtfully and then backhanded Marsh across the face as hard as he could. The shriek was gratifying, and the look of abject terror more so. "Lying to me is a very bad idea, Declan."

"I...I might have suggested...but it was just a joke!" Marsh stammered. "Oh, god, please don't hurt me anymore. Please don't hurt me. Nothing happened, I swear it. She said she's with you! She said she'd never! She said I disgusted her!"

Hmm. That was good to hear. It seemed he'd misjudged this situation somewhat. "Well, we agree on that at least," he murmured. He sighed and stood up straight. "Alright. Take care of Mr Marsh some more, and then throw him out the back door," he instructed his men. "And have him blacklisted. I don't want to see him around here again."

"Wait!" Marsh exclaimed, as he started towards the door. "Uh, Mr Benedict sir? About that job..."

What? Slowly he turned back around and stared. "You cannot be serious."

There was that stubborn look again. "I need a job. And I'm a good worker."

It was an almost amusing concept. "And what do you do?" he asked with a thin veneer of politeness.

"I'm an executive personal assistant," Marsh said, with an odd pride. "I'm efficient, I'm reliable, I'm observant...often I know more about my employers business than they know themselves."

"Really." His patience was wearing thin, especially in the face of such a ridiculous claim. "You've been staying here a few days, correct?"

Marsh nodded uncertainly.

"Plenty of time to observe," he commented with a tight smile. "Why don't you tell me three things about my business that I don't already know?"

For a moment Marsh just gazed at him with his mouth hanging open.

"As I thought," he said scornfully.

"Your housekeeping staff on floor twenty don't bother topping up the minibar," Marsh said rapidly. "The bar staff on the main floor are only ringing up nine drinks out of ten and stealing the difference. The floor manager moved blackjack table eighteen further away from the cage and now there's a clear run between the table and the door. The head chef in Sensi has an offer to be Tom Cruise's private chef and he's seriously thinking of taking it." He pointed straight at Burns. "He's selling information to Willy Bank."

Terry could only stare.

Marsh licked his lips nervously. "Did...did I get three things, sir?"

Truthfully, he hadn't known any of that. But more to the point...He turned and stared at Burns. "How did you know that?" he asked Marsh calmly.

Burns' face darkened. "He's lying!" he exclaimed, with just a little too much vehemence to be convincing. "The little weasel's making it up!" He strode forwards and punched Marsh hard in the face sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Enough!" Terry ordered imperiously.

Burns took no notice, kicking Marsh where he lay on the floor in a gibbering heap.

"I said enough!" Terry said again, and with a nod, he had Eric and Lewis pull Burns back.

"Oh, thank you Mr Benedict," Marsh babbled, crawling along the floor on his belly to where Terry was standing. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He was actually kissing Terry's shoes.

Lip curled, he stared down at the pathetic figure. He was disgusted, and yet at the same time there was something darkly fascinating about it. That thrill of absolute control. He was enjoying this so much more than he should.

"How did you know that," he asked again calmly, not telling the man to get up.

"I, uh, I overheard a phone call?" Marsh stammered, looking up at him as though fearful to make eye contact. "He was...he was talking about poaching your high rollers."

The offer Bank had beat him to. Burns had been at that meeting, he remembered. And now that he came to think about it, there had been a few other meetings and a few similar leaks. And he didn't even need to think about it, because the expression on Burns' face condemned him immediately. "Get out," he said shortly. "Leave your pass in the office and get out. I don't expect to ever see you in any of my hotels again."

Now Burns' face showed pure relief. He'd been expecting to spend time in this room himself, Terry knew. But that wouldn't get the message to Bank in quite the way Terry wanted. That would need to come later.

"As for you," he said, looking down at Marsh. "I'll give you a trial. You start tomorrow." He smiled coldly. "Come by first thing. I'll introduce you around." He'd introduce him to Tess, and he could already imagine the look on her face. He'd come up with some humiliating tasks for Marsh to perform. Make sure Tess really understood who was on top.

"Thank you, Mr Benedict, sir," Marsh said, smiling inanely. "You won't regret it, I promise."

Honestly, he had no intention of keeping Marsh around for long enough to regret it. This was just a temporary measure until he could fill the position permanently. "See that I don't," he said.

Marsh stood up, gasping with pain as he did so, and held his hand out for Terry to shake. "It'll be an honour to work for you, sir," he said.

Terry glanced down at the bloody hand and made no move to touch it.

"Sorry, sir," Marsh said awkwardly, rubbing his hand on his suit jacket, and then raising his other hand to wipe some of the blood from his face.

With a frown, Terry noticed something strange. Marsh's sleeve was torn, and below it he could see a tattoo running up the length of his arm. That seemed somewhat out of character.

Marsh noticed him looking, and covered it selfconsciously. "You, uh, you don't have a rule about tattoos, do you?" he asked uneasily. "I'll have it covered all the time, I promise. I got it a few years ago...you know how it is...my girlfriend at the time said it would make me look tougher."

Lewis snorted with laughter behind him.

"It doesn't work," Terry told him without cracking a smile.

"Yessir," Marsh agreed. "May I go now, sir?"

"Yes," he decided. "And Declan? If you ever tell anyone what happened in this room, you'll be right back here so fast it will feel like someone stuck a rocket up your ass. And that will only be the very start of your problems, do you understand me?"

Judging by his wide, terrified eyes, Marsh understood him perfectly. He raised an eyebrow and stood aside, and Marsh nodded jerkily and darted out of the room. Eric followed, ready to escort him out the back door.

He permitted himself a smile. This was turning into an altogether better day.

"Mr Benedict?" Lewis had his finger to his ear. "That was Alphonse, on the door. He says that they just intercepted Ms Halliday trying to leave on her own. She's been taken back to your suite now."

Tess had tried to leave? His smile faded. He would have to explain to her again the necessity of her bodyguards.

Face expressionless, he nodded. "I believe I will join her there for lunch," he said. "Have that tape converted to DVD and send it up to my suite as soon as possible."

He hoped, for Tess' sake, that she had just been planning on going shopping.