Silas’s smirk vanishes. He sets his cards down slowly and glares at her. "Mikhail, while it’s nice to see you’re glued at the hip with your darling wife, I thought this was a game for men? Maybethe girl should find the bar and leave the business to people who actually understand the math..."
The temperature in the room drops fifty degrees. I slowly set my cards face down on the green felt.
"What did you say?" I ask, a dangerous smile spreading across my face.
Silas tries to maintain his posture, but his chest expands in a tight breath. "I-I said she should be quiet. This is a hundred-thousand-dollar pot, Mikhail. It’s not a parlor game for a pretty doll."
I look back at Irina. Her blue eyes are electric with fury. She’s biting her lip, her jaw set, ready to spit some venom that will probably start a shootout.
I grin and reach out, wrapping my hand around her wrist to pull her forward. ”Why not make this even more fun, men? If you think she can't play, let her take my seat."
Silas lets out a dry, mocking laugh. "You're putting your wife in the game? Mikhail, you've lost your head."
“Try not to combust when my pretty doll wins, Silas," I say, leaning back. "She takes my seat. But we raise the stakes."
"How much?" Vance asks, eyes narrowing.
"If she loses, I double the current pot. I pay a hundred grand to each of you, cash, by tomorrow morning. But if she wins..." I pause, letting the silence stretch. "If she wins, each of you owes me a favor. A real favor. No questions asked."
They’re greedy, and they think this is a joke.
"We're in," Vance says with a greedy grin. "Sit down, sweetheart. Let’s see what you’ve got."
I stand up, letting Irina take my chair. As she sits, her dress rides up her thighs, exposing a smooth stretch of skin that makes my jaw tighten.
I step behind her, my hands resting on her bare shoulders, my thumbs dragging across her collarbone.
"Don't lose my money,dorogaya," I whisper against her ear.
"I never lose," she murmurs back, her voice carrying that sharp edge I love. “You of all people should know that.”
The game starts.
The first hand, she folds immediately. The second, she baits Roman into a forty-thousand-dollar raise on a pair of sixes, only to reveal a full house on the river. She sits with a small, mocking smile, her hair falling over her shoulders, her fingers sliding the chips across the felt with sultry confidence.
I stand behind her, my blood absolutely boiling. God, she’s magnificent.
Silas is staring at her, eyes dark with frustration and lust. Every time his gaze lingers on her chest, I have to force my hands to stay on her shoulders instead of wrapping them around his neck.
She’s mine. They can look, but she’s fucking mine.
By the fifth hand, she’s got Silas cornered. He’s down to his last thirty thousand, his face flushed and his tie pulled loose. "You're bluffing," Silas spits. "You don't have the ace."
"Then call, Silas," Irina purrs. She leans forward, her low-cut dress exposing the soft swell of her breasts, and gives him a sweet smile. "Show me what the men around here are made of. Or are you afraid of me?"
Silas curses and shoves his remaining chips into the center. "Call."
Irina doesn't hesitate. She turns her cards over.
An ace of hearts. A king of hearts. A royal flush on the board.
The room goes dead silent. Vance lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. Silas just stares at the cards, his face pale, his hands trembling.
I look toward the corner. Konstantin is standing there, quiet amusement flickering in his dark eyes. He gives me a short, approving nod.
We have them. Two of the most ambitious players in Brooklyn are now in my debt. This is massive.
I reach down, wrap my arm around Irina’s waist, and pull her up. She stands close, her breathing fast from the rush of the win.
