Page 108 of No Greater Oblivion

“Are you sure about that?”

“Why?” she asks without looking up from her cards. “Want to call my bluff?”

“I don’t know if this is going to work.”

Damiano continues with his juggling as he responds to Rian. “It’ll be fine. Calm down.”

“Anything can go wrong.” Rian stops abruptly by the fireplace. “What if what Morales sent was forged? What if this was a set up?”

“To what end?” Damiano adds a pen to his juggling. “All he wants is to bring Li down for what happened to Amy Walsh and he needs you to do it. I’ll be honest, Ri, I don’t think he’s lying about any of this.”

With Li out of town on business, Rian scheduled the meeting with the investors for tonight. He’s been on the fence about turning against Li since he found out, still unable to accept that his best friend of nearly thirty years was capable of turning on him like this. But now that he’s seen real, tangible proof, there’s no denying it. Li was almost in the grasp of the FBI and he was framing Rian to take the fall in the event of his inevitable capture.

I can’t imagine what he’s going through. Feelings of betrayal, anger, and disappointment all compounded with the fact that the fate of his business and so many others now rests on his shoulders. Voting out Li won’t be easy but I’m willing to do my part to support him despite the incessant urge to strangle him to death.

Dahlia hasn’t taken her eyes off him. She gazes at him with longing and regret and it sets fire to my insides. I can’t stand to share her with anyone else but I have no one but myself to blame.

It’s petty and immature but I push the rest of my chips into the pot as well, desperate to steal her attention away from him. “All in.”

She turns her head but almost immediately looks down at her cards, avoiding my direct gaze at all times. “This has been a very informal game of poker.”

I lay out my hand on the table. Four of a kind, an entire suit of hearts.

Upon inspecting my cards, a subtle smile takes form on her lips. This time she meets my gaze and displays her cards for me to see.

A royal flush.

Defeated, I slump back in my seat. “How the fuck did you do that?”

“I learned from the best,” she replies slyly.

Neither of us can help the grin on our faces. Diego would be brimming with pride to see his protégé completely massacre me at one of my favorite games. We gather up the cards and chips and she sorts while I shuffle for another round.

“You’re going to drop them,” Dahlia sing-songs.

Damiano looks over, offended. “Am not.”

He tries adding a fourth object to his juggling—a computer mouse, I think— but the stapler slips from his hand and he fails to catch the paperweight in time. All four objects rain down on him and the pen nearly pokes his eye out. He winces and covers his face with his palm and Rian scoffs, turning around to pinch the bridge of his nose like he can’t believe he’s in the presence of such stupidity.

My shoulders shake with silent laughter and Dahlia cracks a smile but attempts to hide it under waves of dark hair. It’s even longer now than it was in Barcelona, a mix of beachy curls and loose ringlets, the different textures in her hair adding depth to its natural color. Of course it’s beautiful because she’s beautiful but it’s different…I haven’t quite gotten used to it.

Rian stops at the edge of the table. “We should leave too. The investors are probably already arriving.”

“Sasha knows to bring them to the upstairs conference room,” Dahlia says. “He’ll meet you guys up there.”

Rian nods. “All right.”

I leave the cards on the table and get up from my seat. Dahlia turns her head and our gazes meet. Her lips part as if to say something but Rian interrupts her.

“Don’t leave this room.”

Then he looks at me—cold, menacing, vicious—and without prompting, stops where Dahlia is seated. Glides his hand up the length of her neck before cupping under her jaw and tilting her head back as he kisses her. A little gasp leaves her as his grip on her jaw tightens and he slips his tongue into her mouth, devouring her right in front of me as if I won’t put a bullet through the back of his skull without hesitation.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally pulls away from a wide-eyed, blushing Dahlia whose red lipstick is nothing more than a smeared memory across her bottom lip.

“We’ll be back soon,” he says calmly and then throws over his shoulder. “Don’t get left behind, Narvaez.”

Damiano swears under his breath and follows his friend into the hall. I cut across the room in three long strides but Dahlia gets up from her seat and throws herself against me. Hands scouring my body, she touches my back and explores the pockets of my suit jacket before finally finding the gun tucked into my side. She retrieves it and empties the magazine.