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Doyle did a double take from where he sat, almost as if he didn't recognize his own daughter. Which totally made sense, seeing as he had never met the real Serenity. The one who hadn't been beaten down by him, or cloistered and molded into something he wanted as opposed to who she actually was.
The siphoned adrenaline from the base jump came back in full force as I watched flickers of disgust roll over his face as he eyed Serenity's outfit and makeup.
I tugged our intertwined hands to my mouth, planting a soft kiss on the back of hers before releasing her. She smiled up at me like I was the only man in the room that mattered and then headed over to where the girls were already ordering drinks from the pop-up bar across the room.
I took my seat between Ethan and Crossland, but my eyes met Doyle’s across the table.
It was awkwardly silent, nothing at all like our usual games where we were already mid-conversation before the hands were even dealt.
Now it was so quiet, all we could hear was the soft chatter of the girls across the room, and the cards being shuffled.
The first few hands went by without Doyle so much as reacting to the bets for his seat that we made, but after a few more, a lightbulb clicked behind his eyes.
“You're all being bastards,” he grumbled, folding yet another hand. “Making those bets.”
“They're just bets,” Crossland said. “If you're too cowardly to call them, maybe you're in the wrong game.”
I stifled my laugh. Leave it to Crossland to poke an already angry mob boss. I appreciated his aloofness, severely struggling with the temptation to return every blow Doyle had given Serenity and be done with him.
After Doyle had folded another few hands, I was starting to worry the plan I'd concocted wasn't going to work. There was nothing in our contract saying he had to call any of our bets, but I just needed him to take the bait so I could get him the fuck out of here.
Serenity headed over to me and laid her hand gently on my shoulder like she was afraid of interrupting me. I was mid-hand, but I didn't give a shit. I gave her all of my attention, shifting toward her, smoothing my hand across her lower back.
“The girls want to check out the shops on the other side of the resort,” she said, her voice automatically adapting that low, almost demure tone that she was used to using here. “Is it okay if I go with them?”
Anger snapped through my chest—never at her, but at the way she’d just asked me if she could go shopping. This was ingrained in her, no doubt those emotional and muscle memories switching on the moment she entered our billionaire’s game.
I tugged her into my lap, needing her closer. “You never have to ask, angel,” I said, my eyes only on her. “You tell me, and that's enough. You know the guys will shadow you, and you're comfortable with that, right?”
She nodded, a smile shaping those bold red lips.
“Then go have fun,” I said, bringing my lips to the shell of her ear, lowering my voice so only she would hear. “Buy something I can take off of you later.”
Her little breathless gasp was everything.
I pulled back and captured her mouth with mine, the rest of the room fading away as I kissed her like I would if we were alone.
Possessively, desperately.
I kissed her because I could. Because I wanted to more than anything else in the world, and because she was mine.
Slowly, I pulled back. Her eyes were lust-hazy, her lipstick just slightly smeared. She looked good enough to eat, which I fully intended to do later.
She shook her head at me, a playful look in her eyes as she smoothed her thumb over my lips, no doubt cleaning up the mark she’d left on me. She should’ve known I wouldn't have minded keeping it there, wearing the mark for the rest of the fucking game just because I could.
Serenity kept her eyes on me, dutifully ignoring her father, which made me so damn proud of her.
I lightly pinched her ass as she stood up. “Have fun,” I said.
The girls immediately enveloped her into their little group as they headed out of the poker room, my four guards nodding to me before they followed.
When I returned my focus to the game, I notice that Crossland—who was on my left—had rightfully folded the cards I'd had before Serenity came over, an understanding we shared. A new hand had been dealt, but Doyle's eyes were on me, and he was turning a weird shade of purple.
I looked down at my new cards and folded them, knowing it wasn't the hand that was going to get me what I needed. I could only hope that my friends would be more successful this round.
“Do you have something to say?” I asked Doyle when he hadn't bothered to look down at his hand, still staring at me like he wanted to murder me.
“No,” he said. “I think I'll just keep watching you dig your own grave.”
