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The smoky haze of the dimly lit room hangs heavily around me as I gather my winnings from the table. The thrill of victory courses through my veins, along with a small twinge of melancholy.
This will be the last evening I play at Encore’s tables. My ticket for Vegas is booked, and as soon as my mother arrives, I’ll be flying to Sin City.
“Looks like you’ve got quite the lucky streak going.”
I glance up to find a stunning woman standing beside me, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of shadows. Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and I can’t help but wonder who she belongs to. “Or maybe I’m just that good,” I retort playfully, scooping up the last of my chips.
“I’m Ari Bianchi.”
I quirk my head and tell myself it’s no big deal that Enzo’s sister suddenly finds the need to introduce herself.” Hello, Ari.” I put out my hand. “I’m—”
“Abby Mercer. The woman responsible for making my unflappable brother…flap a little.”
“I don’t think—”
“Let’s grab a drink.” She nods toward the bar, a daring glint in her eyes.
The last thing I should be doing is spending time with Enzo’s sister, but I am too curious to resist her offer. “Lead the way.”
“Where you running off to now, Little Bird?”
“Fausto, can you give me a little space?”
A large man who looks more sumo wrestler than Mafia soldier rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Ari. ‘Cause that’s how things work. Your brother would love it if you escaped again, and the Don would be thrilled if he discovered his cousin is flitting around unprotected.”
“I don’t flit, Fausto.”
“No, you just stomp your high heels all over the rules and pray we survive.”
“So far, so good.” She straightens his tie. “I’m gonna have a drink with Abby, the famous card shark.”
He checks his watch dramatically. “You running on a different clock than me?”
“We have donuts whenever you want.” Waving her hand toward the bar, she smiles. “Now we’re having tequila when I want.”
“Fine.”
“See how easy that is.” She shakes out her hair. “And they say negotiating with the Mafia is difficult.”
“Say that louder, Ari. Because all the tourists milling around are dying to know if the rumors are true.”
“Space, Fausto.” She stretches out her arms. “Don’t get closer.”
“Until you need me to grab something you can’t reach or carry your packages, or—”
“I get it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes!” She throws up her hands. “You are on my last nerve today and making me rethink joining the nunnery.”
“Like they would let you in,” he mutters, waving his hand. “Go. Get a drink already.”
“I think you two have a very happy future together,” I say while biting back a laugh.
“I’d rather be hit by a bullet between my eyes.”
“And I would prefer to live among the Bedouin tribe and wear a Bhurka.” She takes my hand and heads toward the bar. “Which is not meant to disrespect the people of the desert. I just don’t do well in hot climates and suffer from a bit of claustrophobia.”
