Mistress-of-the-Game - By Tilly Bagshawe Sidney Sheldon Page 0,117

will be all right.

"Templeton's going under."

Gabe hid his surprise. It wasn't what he'd expected to hear. Was that why she'd stolen from his charity? To prop up her business? Hardly the most noble of reasons, but perhaps in desperation...

"David Tennant resigned today. I'm going to have to let the others go, too."

"I'm sorry, darling. I know how much that business means to you."

Lexi looked up at him with genuine surprise.

"Templeton? It doesn't mean that much to me."

Now Gabe was confused. "But...you've been crying."

"Not about Templeton." Lexi sniffed.

This is it. This is where she's going to come clean about the money. Ask to make a fresh start.

"Kruger-Brent's share price got decimated today. Wiped out. They could...it might mean the end of the company."

Gabe recoiled as if he'd been stung.

Kruger-Brent? She's crying over Kruger bloody Brent?

It was the last straw. Gabe hadn't hit another human being since almost killing that poor man in London thirty years ago. But he could feel his fists twitching. Did Lexi have no shame at all? She'd stolen money, not just from him, the man she was supposed to love, but from the thousands of AIDS victims who desperately needed it. But that didn't bother her. Oh no. All she cared about, all she'd ever cared about, was that godforsaken company. Gabe remembered his father, how he'd died broken and embittered, destroyed by his obsession with Kruger-Brent. I traveled halfway across the world to avoid the same fate. And here I am, in love with a woman every bit as poisoned and corrupted by Kruger-Brent as my dad was.

Oblivious to his anger, Lexi went on.

"There have been some credit problems. I didn't realize it was that serious, but obviously it must be. The market can sense Max's weakness like a shark smelling blood."

"I don't care." Gabe's voice was barely a whisper.

"What?"

"I said I'm NOT INTERESTED!"

Suddenly he was shouting. Screaming. Lexi had never seen him so angry.

"Kruger-Brent can go to hell, for all I care, and the same goes for Max Webster. You stole from my foundation."

Lexi said nothing. Gabe could see the wheels turning in her brain as she calculated her options. Deny? Explain? Apologize?

Everything's a game to her. It's all about winning and to hell with the truth.

Eventually she said: "I didn't steal. I borrowed."

"Why?"

Another pause. "I can't tell you." She hung her head. "But it was for something very important."

"More important than getting retrovirals to terminally sick children?"

"Yes," Lexi answered without thinking, from the heart.

Gabe looked at her with a mixture of horror and disgust. Was she really so far gone that she thought a business deal was more important than saving lives? Apparently so.

His disappointment was more than Lexi could bear. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"You'll get the money back, Gabe. You'll get twice what I took. I promise."

"It's not about the money." Gabe put his head in his hands.

Lexi thought: He looks so tired. So defeated. Have I done that to him?

"It's over, Lexi. I love you. But I can't go on."

Lexi felt the walls caving in. She wanted to cry, to scream: No! I love you. Please don't leave me. Don't go!

And yet she knew she couldn't keep him. Gabe was good and honest and true. He deserved a normal, happy life. She had done what she had to do. Gabe would never understand it, even if she told him. Which, of course, she never would.

It took every ounce of her self-control for Lexi to stand up, pick up her bag and walk to the door.

"I love you, too, Gabe. I'm sorry. You'll get your money."

Gabe stood in the doorway, watching her car drive away.

Good-bye, Lexi.

On Monday morning, when the markets opened, Kruger-Brent stock was down by almost 90 percent.

On Wall Street, rumors were rife. Someone had inside information about Kruger-Brent, and it was bad:

The default on the Singapore bank loan was the tip of a bad-debt iceberg.

A massive accounting fraud was about to be uncovered.

One of the "wonder drugs" of the firm's pharmaceutical division was going to be exposed as a lethal killer.

Not since the banking crisis of 2009 had the markets seen such a huge company brought to its knees overnight. A couple of traders emerged from the woodwork, admitting that they'd taken huge bets on the company's demise. Carl Kolepp, owner of the legendarily aggressive hedge fund CKI, was one. The Wall Street Journal estimated that over the weekend, Kolepp had personally made $620 million out of Kruger-Brent's misery.

Lexi Templeton, like the rest of her famous family, had