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Chapter 6
Jasmine nodded toward the man sitting across from them. “Ace, this is Dmytro. Dmytro, this is Ace.”
Twenty-five years her senior, Dmytro personified the word intimidating. The man had a wicked scar across his left cheek that he’d earned during his time in the army. Another scar slashed across his eyebrow, giving it a disjointed, wicked slant. He’d said he’d earned that one as a mercenary.
Dmytro had given up his wild, marauding life when he’d returned to his hometown and fallen in love with a pretty Ukrainian girl. For her, he’d settled into a tame existence as a lineman for the state-owned national electric company.
He'd assimilated into the quiet provincial life. They’d had a baby girl and were happy—until the leader of Russia destroyed his home, his town and many of his friends and family.
He’d taken his wife and daughter and left the war-torn nation, knowing they wouldn’t be safe as long as the war raged on.
As Jasmine stared across at her old friend, she could feel Ace tense beside her. Knowing Dmytro wouldn’t hurt her, she laid a hand on Ace’s knee as she addressed the Ukrainian in his language. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”
Dmytro nodded and responded in heavily accented English. “You look well, Senorita Giordano.”
Jasmine’s lips curled in a smile. Dmytro’s daughter had chosen that name for her Italian passport. “How is Ana?”
He snorted, his heavy eyebrows forming a V over his nose. “She is in Los Angeles.”
Jasmine’s eyes widened. “When did that happen?”
His frown deepened. “When she decided she wanted to become a movie star and bought a one-way plane ticket to California.” He shook his head. “Her mother is not happy. I am not happy.” The older man shrugged. “But what can we do? She is a grown woman with a mind of her own.”
“Like her father?” Jasmine teased.
“Too much like her father,” Dmytro admitted. “Beautiful like her mother, stubborn like me.” He sighed and focused on Jasmine. “We are not here to discuss my daughter. What is important is to get your son back.”
Her joy at seeing her old friend dampened at the mention of Eli. “Is Francesca on track to play poker with Christos?”
Dmytro nodded. “When the casino informed him of a special guest in their exclusive game room, he demanded a seat at the table. He’ll be there along with four other regulars.”
“Good,” Jasmine said. “Should I be concerned about the others?”
“I’ve played with some of them before,” Dmytro said. “Nikolai Thanos is a retired real estate broker. No connection to the Greek crime families, just likes to play poker with people who know how. Angelo Remes made his fortune as an action-adventure movie star. Now in his seventies, he plays poker for the challenge. Klaus Müller, a German game developer, sold a game for enough money to retire comfortably but enjoys poker twice a week. He’s Christos’s friend. The last man, Jon Anders, I’m not as familiar with him. My source says he’s a U.S. ex-pat who inherited his money and likes spending it on fast cars, women and taking risks.”
“Charming group,” Jasmine commented.
“The casino likes to keep it friendly. They’ve had games between underground crime leaders where they check their weapons at the doors. Since you’re a special guest, the casino manager chose the least dangerous players.”
“Nice to know,” Ace said.
“The source says Christos has been known to overextend his bets, relying on markers from the cashiers. Lately, he’s been slow paying back the markers. The cashier and the dealer have been instructed not to extend a marker past the initial one to buy into the game.”
Jasmine nodded. “Which means I have to win enough to exceed his limit by a significant amount.”
Dmytro nodded. “The dealer will allow you to extend your own marker to Christos,” he said. “When he loses, he will ask to pay you back the next day as he has done in the past with other special guests.”
Going along with the storyline, Jasmine said, “I’ll insist he pay me tonight as I leave for Canada early tomorrow morning.”
“He’ll have to tap into his father’s cash to pay you before morning,” Dmytro said. “When he suggests that he go to his family home for the money, you can insist on going with him.”
“With my bodyguard,” Jasmine added. “After all, I don’t know him well enough to trust his word.”
Dmytro leaned across the space between them, extending his hand. “Take this,” he said, handing her a ring with a shiny black sapphire setting.
She took the ring and stared down at it, her brow puckering. “A ring?”
“A special ring,” Dmytro said. “You will need time to look for the artifact. That would be hard to do with Christos watching.” The Ukrainian lifted his chin. “The sapphire is attached to a tiny spring. Flip it up on one side.”
