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Ella
I’m in way out of my depth. Just being here tells me that. The men that brought me and the ones they delivered me to. These men don’t play by the rules, hell they probably don’t know what a rule is. Seeing them was bad enough, but when one of them whispered to me, I felt my knees almost give way.
“Lucas Emiliano is not a nice man, don’t piss him off.”
Those were his exact words, and he didn’t need to add the rest of the sentence to the name. I know who Lucas Emiliano is, hell the whole of Vegas has it imprinted on their brain because if you mess with the Casino King, you disappear, probably to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
I almost can’t concentrate because just being in the same room as him is messing with my mind.
He’s angry. I could tell that on sight.
He’s got a short fuse, that’s common knowledge, and I’m in the firing line.
Lucas Emiliano is not titled the Casino King for nothing. He owns the corporation that awards gaming licenses. He controls the whole casino empire, regardless if he owns them or not, and most of them he does. He is the top dog in the gambling world and I’ve angered him.
He was right, I did need that brandy because I’ll be lucky to get out of here at all, judging by the anger in his expression and the look in his eye. It doesn’t help that he is the most attractive man I have ever laid eyes on. Dark hair cut close and dark smoldering eyes. His shirt is rolled up at the sleeves revealing a splash of ink and his muscles ripple as he moves, revealing that working out is one of his hobbies. There is something so primitive in my reaction to Lucas Emiliano, and despite the fact I’m well out of my depth here, he fascinates me for all the wrong reasons.
Then there’s the money. He can’t lay claim to that if he’s not my customer, so I relax a little. But then who is the person who made the order? I feel like such a fool when I realize I have no way of knowing. I let greed blind me to anything but taking the money and making sure my family was safe. What if the cops come calling and seize my assets? I could go to prison and I’m drowning in fear because I know nothing of this world they live in.
“Just breathe, Ella.”
His words shock me back into the room and I whisper, “You know my name.”
“I know your name, your address, your age and what you have for breakfast. I know you went to school in Pittsburgh and moved to North Carolina when you were nine. I know you have a sister and a mother who’s dying of cancer. I know your sister has a heart condition and has just undergone surgery to save her life. Your favorite color is blue and you hate cruelty to animals. You’re 24 years old and own the Copycat store in town. Need I go on?”
My mouth drops open but no words come out and he shrugs, “I like to know who I’m dealing with. There’s not a lot I don’t know about you Ella Quinn, but I’m guessing you know shit about me.”
“I know you.”
He raises his eyes and I say quickly. “They call you the Casino King. You own this town and run the gambling operations in all other States. Your reputation makes people curious; they whisper about you and what you are capable of. They are fascinated by the world you inhabit and speak of you in hushed tones. You are considered a player, a bastard and a man with no morals. Probably someone who kicks puppies and turns charities away unless there’s something in it for him. Women want you, men want to be you and most are warned off you. Yes, Mr. Emiliano, I know about you and your reputation was enough to tell me I wasn’t interested in finding out anything more.”
To my surprise, he laughs softly. “Is that right?”
“What part?”
“The part where you’re not interested.”
“Yes. What’s the matter, can’t you understand that not everyone wants a man like you in their life?”
“Not really.”
He smiles and laughs softly. “I haven’t met anyone who doesn’t want what I can give them.”
“That doesn’t mean they like you, Mr. Emiliano, it just means they use you - big difference.”
I think I’ve gone too far when his eyes flash and he turns away and for a moment I think he’s contemplating putting the gun to my head that I see tucked inside his jacket on the back of his chair.
Then he says in a low voice, “Don’t you think I know that. That the people I surround myself with are here for what I can give them and what I can do for them?”
I say nothing and he turns and raises his eyes, “Well, don’t you?”
“If you’re asking, it must be true.”
He nods. “You make a good observation, I like that. Anyway, none of these observations matter because we are stuck together until circumstances dictate otherwise. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that. You are now my guest, prisoner, call it what you like, but you go nowhere outside this apartment unless I say so.”
“You really meant that, but why? I mean, I have a business to run, a life. By all means come back with me and I’ll give you what I have, show you my records, anything to put your mind at rest that I’m not involved in whatever this weird shit is that’s going on. But please, let me go back home, I’m begging you.”
“Interesting.”
