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The House Always Wins
STEPHANIE RENEE
Chapter One
DOMINIC
“Is she back?” I ask John, my head of security.
Not taking his eyes off of the security cameras, he answers, “Yes, sir. Third time this week.”
“Lucky number three,” I mutter.
John zooms in on the cameras, and the bright-eyed, dark-haired woman appears on the screen.
Katarina Simms.
“John, why don’t you step outside for a smoke?” I fold my arms over my chest, staring at the screen with such intensity I worry the screen might crack under the pressure. John doesn’t bother to remind me that he quit smoking a month ago. Instead, he obeys and leaves the room.
Once he’s gone, I take a seat in the chair he just left without ever taking my eyes off of her.
Katarina walked into my Las Vegas casino three nights ago and has been on a scorching winning streak at the Blackjack tables.
Anyone who starts winning an obscene amount of money and barely loses a penny garners a whole hell of a lot of attention from my staff. And when they learned she wasn’t a guest at the hotel, it looked even worse. We weren’t making any of our money back on this girl.
And that caught my attention. Everyone knows that Dominic Delgado doesn’t do well with losing money.
Yes, I run a casino, and occasionally, losing money is part of the deal. But most people who walk through the door end up either breaking even—or even better—taking a loss.
Now, I get that everybody has their hot streaks. It happens. But no one wins this much without losing. No one.
And the moment I first saw her on the monitors, I knew she was counting cards. It’s not always easy to tell, but I just knew with her. She’s good, but I’m better.
And ever since Katarina came across my radar, I’ve been utterly fascinated with her—which is probably why I haven’t busted her yet. In some strange way, watching her has been the highlight of my week.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she’s gorgeous, although she seems to be going out of her way not to attract any attention. The past three days, she has showed up wearing a baggy t-shirt, some ripped jeans, and a baseball cap. It’s apparent that she’s trying not to be noticed. But that’s her first mistake. Everyone around here is dressed to impress, so Katarina sticks out like a sore thumb.
Most women who grace the floor of my Blackjack tables are dressed to the nines—hoping to be on the arm of a man who is on a hot winning streak. Then, there’s Katarina, who looks like she’s one step away from homeless.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I pull it out to look at it, I see a text from John.
John: Mr. Delgado, the background check came back on Miss Simms.
While waiting for more information to come through, I look back at the screen and can’t help but picture taking her to bed. She may not look the most attractive at the moment, but I know a diamond in the rough when I see one.
I imagine what her full, pouty lips would look like wrapped around my cock. I think about her dark hair fanned around her on the pillow while I fuck her brains out. And I picture what her body looks like under those baggy clothes of hers.
Why am I so infatuated with this woman?
I’m not sure, but I know I need to find a way to get her into my bed. I need to give her an offer she won’t say no to—an offer she can’t say no to. Most women wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to go to bed with me, but something tells me Katarina is different.
My phone vibrates again with another message from John. This time, a file is attached.
Clicking on it, I quickly see Katarina’s driver’s license photo pop up. Good lord, the woman looks more attractive in her driver’s license photo than she does right now.
Scrolling down to her personal information, I read that she’s from Atlantic City.
If she’s from AC, why is she here in Vegas counting cards? The hobby is much easier to get away with in New Jersey than in Vegas. Atlantic City doesn’t have me.
