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Chapter 1

Leo

“Let’s make things interesting, shall we?” I see the glint in Vince’s eye as he looks at hisfriend. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s going on here, but I can see it. Like watching a car crash in slow motion. Vince shrugs, like it’s nothing to him, but this is business and business is everything.“I’ll see your two. And raise you ten.” He turns to me with a snide grin as he pushes a stack of chips into the center of the table. “You in, Leo?”

I set my jaw, staring him down.

Trouble is with Vincent Carew, he just stares right back. He thinks he should be the one calling the shots, that I’m not cut out for leadership. And he knows that here, in this town, a wrong move from me could be just the excuse he needs to start a fucking war.

Degenerate scumbag.

He knows his friend here can’t match his raise, knows it’s pushing him over his limit. I was only talked into playing a friendly game, not taking part in a crucifixion.

“Fuck you, Vince,” I mutter under my breath.

But if I don’t stay in, I have no control. He may be a scumbag, but he’s not an idiot.

Huffing out a breath, I say the only words open to me right now. “Fine. Call.”

I count out twelve thousand dollars in chips and throw them in to join his, then meet the third guy’s eyes.

Fold, asshole.

I will the words into his brain, not even bothering to look at my own cards. I lucked out on the flop, hitting a third ten to match my pair, and it’s the best hand here. I know it, one hundred percent. I’m good at reading people, I have to be.

In this line of work, not knowing what the other guy is thinking can get you killed.

It’s the last hand of the night and I should be looking at the pot with glee, but I don’t want this to turn unfriendly. It’s down to just three of us, and while I know Vince can afford to lose what he’s put in, the other guy, Greg something, isn’t so flush.

“What’s it going to be?” I ask, folding my arms on the table in front of me. Dense ink curls beneath the thick dark hair on my forearms, some from prison, some from a need to feel the pain of a needle over the pain of my own life.

Truth is, I hate what I am. And I hate that I have to pretend I don’t.

“I don’t have that much,” Greg says, looking at his stack of chips.

I shrug, as if his pleading means nothing to me. “Then fold.”

He lets out a deep sigh, fingering his cards. He’s got two pair. I saw his eyes light up when he matched both his cards, an ace and an eight if I’m not mistaken. Dead man’s hand. Fitting. He needs to get out right now before Vince ropes him into the family for life.

I watch as his eyebrows draw together, his fingers absently going to his face, scratching his cheek then his chin. He’s a good looking guy, smooth, slim, businesslike. The total opposite of me. That’s why Vince chose him. That and his gambling addiction. It makes his casino the perfect place to clean our dirty money.

For a second, I think he’s going to do the sensible thing and throw his cards into the center. I almost breathe a sigh of relief, ready to pack up and go back to my hotel room. Then I see him pull up his shirt sleeve.

I already noticed the pale band of skin around his wrist earlier. He usually wears a watch but it’s not there, and Vince is wearing a brand new Rolex. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“I...um, I need a loan. You know I’m good for it.” He glances over at Vince. “I’ll pay you back with interest.”

Vince is grinning like the shark that got the cream. Win or lose this hand, he’s going away richer than he was when he walked in, and Gregsomethingis going to end up doing whatever favors take his whim. Vince is lower than pond dirt, but he’s also a capo and the favorite to take my place when the inevitable happens and someone puts a bullet through my brain.

I have to tread a careful line. Trouble is, I also feel sorry for this guy.

“No loans,” I say. “Put up or shut up.”

Vince blows out a breath through his nose, staring at me, jaw moving as he considers how to respond. Will he dare defy me outright? I stare right back, waiting.

And he finally looks away. “Fine. Your move, Smoke.”

That’s it, Gregory Smoke. He even sounds like a decent, charming businessman. Or a forties movie star.

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