One time, a site agent tore a strip off me after £40,000 worth of white goods went missing. I suspected it might be him, so I went to his house that night. The second I saw his face, I knew he was guilty. I said, ‘If you’ve got the goods, I will take them back and won’t shop you to your bosses. If you refuse to let me in, I will come in anyway, and if I find the goods, I will blow you up.’ If someone behaves like that towards me, I have full licence to treat them like the worst bitch in the street. Gratitude is a burden but revenge is a pleasure. It felt good to get my own back.

The business grew. I had 500 lads working for me, and we were hired to do security for a £200-million office complex. I told my guards that I would give them a £500 reward if they called me whenever a thief tried to bribe them into turning a blind eye. One day it paid off, and I got a call from one of my guards. Apparently, he had been approached by a lad from one of the haulage firms who wanted to nick £10,000 worth of cobblestones from the site. Acting on my behalf, the guard agreed to let the lad into the site at midnight to collect the cobbles. Little did he know that I was hunched down by the checkpoint, lying in wait.

The lorry pulled up and the driver said, ‘I’m here to collect the cobblestones.’ That was my cue. I launched myself at the cabin like a gazelle, jumped across to the driver, smacked the keys out of the ignition and took the lorry hostage.

When I jumped back out of the cabin, the driver came out after me. He was a bit of a big lad, so I gave him a kick straight into his guts that doubled him over on his hands and knees. I then got him by the hair and said, ‘You’ve chose the wrong nigger to try and rob, mate. This is Stephen French’s site.’ I then fined him £5,000 and confiscated the wagon as collateral. Later, the big brother who owned the haulage firm threatened me with all his gangster connections if I didn’t give the lorry back.

I said, ‘Listen, mate. I don’t care if you’re connected to King Kong himself, cos King Kong’s got fuck all on me, you understand? If you want to come here, I’m ready. Talk is cheap.’

Finally, the elder brother paid me £3,500 and we shook hands. I believe he made his younger brother work off the debt in the end. As promised, I gave the guard his £500 reward, Chris got £1,000 (although he had no idea where it had come from) and I spunked my £1,000 in the casino. I also gave the site agent £1,000 as a gesture of goodwill and to remind him of my part in the whole affair. In the event that he was on another multimillion-pound project, the chances were that he’d hire us again, as we had shown ourselves to be a trustworthy and honest security firm. That’s why I had the most jobs and the most exclusive contracts with builders. All I was doing was a good job and going above and beyond the call of duty when necessary, without impugning anybody’s reputation. These stories illustrate how battles can be won without firing a single shot. It’s what I like to call good captaincy – good piloting of the ship. Isn’t that what you want? No casualties and total victory? Can it get better than that? No, it can’t.

Our security business Chrymark Security soon reached a turnover of four million quid. But I was missing the action and craving my former life. I resisted, but in the end I substituted crime for another addiction – cocaine. It was bad. It took over my life for about a year, and I went low. To make matters worse, Chris had managed to break two legs messing around on a motorbike. We took our eye off the ball, and the security firm began to suffer. Then we fell out over a property venture. While I was in my cocaine stupor, I suspected Chris had gone behind my back on a property deal. First, I found out that he had used our company funds to help buy a £4-million property development, although it was only a small amount for a deposit that he later paid back. Second, I believed that the deal had only gone through because my contact owned the building. And third, Chris turned to me to save the day when the deal was about to collapse.

Meanwhile, Chris had been named Entrepreneur of the Year at an awards ceremony for local businessmen. I congratulated him and telephoned his mum and dad to tell them the good news. However, during his acceptance speech, he failed to mention me at all. One of the lads with us nudged me and said, ‘You deserve that award as much as Chris does.’ That was something that stuck with me.

Chris really began to distance himself from me. I was still in a cocaine stupor – my home life was in tatters, and I was very ill. I knew I had to come off the stuff. Within 21 days of stopping, it was out of my system, and my head began to clear. I started to get very suspicious about Chris and his secretive behaviour. As it turned out, I discovered that he had two new business partners and had completely cut me off. Disappointment, betrayal and despair – all superseded by furious anger – coursed through my body.

I’d always promised Chris that I’d never use violence against him, so we agreed to sell Chrymark. I settled on a fee of 250 grand for my share. I also wanted a share of the property portfolio, so I went to my solicitor to get his advice. It turned out that Chris had also paid a visit to Enzo, but my solicitor’s loyalties remained with me, and he told Chris, ‘You danced with the Devil. Now it’s time to pay the piper.’

Chris accused me of blackmail and threatening his father, which was totally untrue. The police heard about the tension between me and Chris, and stopped me from flying out to watch Liverpool in Istanbul in the 2005 Champions League final. They thought I was going to damage Chris, who also happened to be going. Eventually, he agreed to pay me £1.3 million. Despite the conflict, I’ve got a lot of love for Chris, even though we are still poles apart.

In 2005, I switched my interest to property development full time, which is something I am still involved in today. I play the stock market and the Lloyd’s insurance market. At my leisure, I still do debt recoveries, arbitration and act as a security consultant. I work when I feel like it and on average earn £250 an hour – more on a good day. Sometimes I can earn up to £5,000 for a half-day’s work. And yes, the taxman’s getting his. I ain’t going to make the mistake of stealing his money.

Now let me ask you a question: would you rather risk your life sorting out some underworld mess with zero payment at the end or would you prefer to earn a truckload of cash mediating between two middle-class white businessmen, who at their worst might say, ‘That’s a bit strong, isn’t it, old boy?’ Exactly.

I’d finally reached a point in my life when I was happy and contented. I was rich, but no longer had anything to do with the underworld. The Devil was still inside me, but I had evolved into a totally different person. I finally had my demons under control.

First thing in the morning, I switch on my mobile and a message pops up: ‘You are an unstoppable champion.’ That sets me up for the rest of day.