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In the end, it is what it is. I can't let her near this place again. I need to make myself forget about her.
Chapter 3
Loren
If you ever return, you'll wish you were never fucking born. Stay away from the Golden Flame like your life depends on it. And don't worry. I will inform every Vegas casino of your antics and ensure you are blacklisted. You have ten minutes to get out of here.
I swallow back my emotions as I stand across the street from the Golden Flame Casino, arms wrapped tightly around myself because, despite the heat of Las Vegas, the chill of Domenic's words is still sinking in. My hair is still mussed, and I'm sure I look like the epitome of the walk of shame.
He was soangry. So cold. Nothing like the man who had taken me over and over again last night, roughly and then so gently and then roughly once again, whispering sweet things in Italian that I wish I understood.
But Domenic Caputo is a mafioso. What else did I expect?
Last night had been something incredible—something I knew I couldn't walk away from when his beautiful dark eyes captured me in that bar. He was so stoic and intense, yet everything about him had drawn me in and left me wishing for more.
Obviously, more can't ever happen. I'm never going in there again, not when Domenic made it clear he and his father would "get rid of me" for hacking and cheating their games. He also made it abundantly clear that he was being lenient. Letting me go this time with nothing but a severe warning was absolutely not going to happen again, and if they see me there again, I'll be in deep shit.
But then… I'm already in deep shit.
I swallow when the dark car slides to a stop at the curb before me. No one gets out, and no windows are rolled down, but the small red sticker on the rearview mirror—an ace of spades—tells me this car belongs to the Wild Seven. I have no doubt that not getting in will result in far worse consequences than if I do.
I get in.
Ace says nothing beside me as the dark car pulls away, slipping through Las Vegas traffic like oil making its way up through water. It finally stops in a dark parking garage on the outskirts of town, and I swallow.
"I know. I missed the meet-up we agreed on last night. But I still cashed out—"
"You broke a rule."
His voice is like smoke, and he's right. I stayed the night at a casino hotel after scamming it, and I'm never supposed to do that. If he knew Domenic Caputo himself had found out what I am and what I do, I'm 100% certain that Ace would put a bullet between my eyes right this second.
Instead, he nods his pointy chin at the door. "Get out."
I really don't want to get out. I can see the massive figure out there already, and I feel sick to my stomach. But waiting in this charged, suffocating silence with this dangerous man certainly isn't better, so I get out.
I barely recognize the big man as one of Ace's walking muscles before the lumbering figure grabs me with frightening speed. I try to get away, to jump backward, but his big, meaty hands both wrap around one of my thighs and then—
Snap!
I scream and crumble to the cement, choking on the pain shooting up and down my leg. I'm vaguely aware that the big, hulking meathead has tossed my purse to Ace.
They're going to take it, I realize—all that's in there is a bit of makeup, a wallet with a fake ID, my "winnings" from last night, and…my device. Not that they'll know how to use it, and I have plenty more like that, but I'm still furious as I try not to cry audibly over the pain of my broken femur.
"You're out of the group. Just remember that I know where your mother lives," Ace says icily. "If you ruin the hacking terrain in our territory, you better hope you have enough hacked dough saved up for a nice funeral for her. Fritz, break her arm to make sure she gets the message," he adds.
The giant beside me leans down, but I scramble away, unable to see clearly through the heated blur in my vision.
"No! Please, I get it! I get it," I sob, voice hoarse and strangled with pain.
Ace grunts, and then his brute gets into the Wild Seven's car, and it drives away, leaving me broken on the filthy parking garage ground with tears streaming over my face. I can barely breathe. My heart is still aching from Domenic's disgust earlier, and now?
After everything I've worked for, I have nothing but myself.
Three Years Later
I take a deep breath before opening the email on my laptop.
Dear Miss Rally,
