Page 11 of Venomous Games

“I gambled with it. I thought I could double it…”

For a second, I don’t move. My mind races, trying to catch up. Numbers, accounts, time, all of it crashing together. Gone. All of it.

My jaw tightens, a faint tremor running through it as my teeth clench. My hand shoots out, gripping the edge of the bed beside me, fingers digging into the fabric hard enough to ground me.

“You gambled it away,” I say, the words flat, like I’m testing them.

She answers with the barest of nods, still not looking at me.

Heat floods my chest now, fast and suffocating. Shock twists into something darker. Something louder.

“Fucking hell,” I breathe out, but there’s no relief in it, only pressure. “That’s why you were so pushy for me to go with you.”

Another small nod. Her shoulders slump further, like she’s bracing for what’s coming next.

I stare at her, really looking at her. The blood. The bruised knuckles. The torn dress.

My fingers curl tighter, knuckles whitening now. My pulse is racing, every instinct in me clawing for control.

“Was it Bailey who did that to you?” I yell. “Don’t you dare try to cover for him either. Tell me.”

“Yes, it was.”

And the shock burns away, leaving something more dangerous in its place.

I turn and immediately start for the door, Carrie chasing after me.

“Don’t do anything, Maven. I also lost his money. He found out last night, and, well⁠—”

“That doesn’t mean he can fucking hit you,” I tell her.

“I gave it right back,” she says, smiling and lifting her hands to show me her knuckles.

“Good, but I’m still going to kill him,” I inform her.

“We don’t have a contract on him,” she calls out after me.

“Consider this your contract. I’m going to show him what happens when you fuck with someone I love.” I slam the door shut, effectively ending whatever it is she was about to say to try to stop me.

SIX

BOSTON

Arlo is sitting across from me, his fingers drumming on the table as he looks at me. He hasn’t said much since he sat down. And truth be told, he does that to intimidate people. It seems he can be calm and collected with everyone but his wife. He’s one of the best therapists in the city, probably in the country, but when it comes to his wife, he loses his cool and does stupid shit like break into her house. It was good to see his calm exterior crack for once.

“How is Cora?” I ask, and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table.

“Good,” he says with a hint of a smile. She’s the only thing that can make this man smile.

“You two are early,” Reon says as he pulls out a chair and sits in it. He adjusts his sleeves, his tattoos peeking out, and looks around but doesn’t say anything more.

He requested an urgent meeting, and I suggested this rundown diner, as no one gives a fuck what you have to say here.

Soren appears, then pulls out a chair and looks at us. “What happened last night?” he asks, his gaze gliding over each of us before landing heavily on me. “Are you aware of what happened?”

Pulling out his phone, he pulls up a video and presses play. A woman is on the ground, and Bailey is kicking her stomach. She manages to get to her feet, then swings at him and connects with his jaw. My jaw clenches in response, a flicker of approval cutting through the rising anger. She didn’t stay down.

Then Marcus moves into the frame. My fingers curl against the table as he grabs her, holding her in place, and Bailey… He hits her, full force, and my pulse spikes. Heat floods my system, fast and violent.