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“You,” I whisper.
Something flickers across Alessandro’s face upon hearing my words—a fleeting emotion, there one second and gone the next. He clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath, steeling his self-control so it seems. Our faces are so close that I can feel his warm exhale caress my mouth.
I tilt my head up ever so slightly. The tip of my upper lip touches his bottom one. It’s not a kiss. Just the tiniest brush, but it hits me right in the core of my being. I don’t dare move. I don’t even breathe.
A vehicle zooms past, its rumbling sound breaking the spell. Alessandro takes a step back.
“We should get going,” he says. “I have somewhere to be, and I’m already late.”
I nod and quickly get inside the car.
The organizers of the poker tournament certainly made sure they keep the identity of the players a secret.
I get out of the car and look toward the scantly lit one-story house. There are no other vehicles around, so I assume that each player was scheduled to arrive at a different time. A man waiting at the front door escorts me inside, across the unfurnished hall, and into a small room on the left side of the building where another man, wearing a three-piece suit and black gloves, is seated behind a desk covered in a black tablecloth. I guess that makes him an inspector.
“Quality check,” he says and taps the surface of the desk with his palm.
I reach into my pocket for the velvet pouch, undo the string, and let the contents spill over the ebony surface.
The inspector grabs a small magnifying glass and, taking one of the rocks, lifts it toward the light. The gemstone shines in the brightness the same way Ravenna’s eyes do when she smiles.
“Green diamonds. Nice,” he murmurs while looking at the stone from all sides. “Very nice. Popov’s?”
“Yes.”
“Exceptional quality.” He places the diamond on a small scale. After he checks the weight, he makes a note in a leather-bound notebook and moves to the next one.
There is no specific requirement on the size or color of the precious gems that will be used as stakes for the game, as long as each is worth at least twenty-five grand. One stone equates to a chip. It doesn’t matter if the actual worth is over the minimum value. For people who attend this particular game, a few grand here and there don’t matter.
I move my eyes to the page where the inspector is jotting down the estimate, scanning over the numbers. If Drago fucked me over on even one rock, they won’t let me participate.
After the jeweler checks all twenty of my diamonds, he places them back into the pouch and nods at the man who escorted me here.
“He’s good,” he says and returns the pouch to me. “Steven will be your host for the evening. I wish you a great game, sir.”
My host ushers me to a curtained-off space somewhere in the depths of the house. The alcove is encased in heavy black floor-to-ceiling curtains that hang on either side of the door, creating a funnel-like tunnel to a curved bench and chair placed at the far side. At the end, a window—set just above the bench—allows me to see beyond. Once I walk up and take a look, I realize that the curved bench is actually a round table, partitioned by the curtain dividers and the window screen, which appears to be a one-way glass. I can see out, no one can see in.
I take a seat at the table, contemplating my surroundings. The game is set for four players, judging by the three other screens marking the spots. A dealer’s seat is the only one left not concealed, occupied by a stocky man in a bow tie. The black curtains, though sturdy, drape in soft waves. Their color reminds me of Ravenna’s hair. It’s like she is haunting me everywhere I go.
The hunger that has burned in me by having her body pressed to mine hasn’t dissipated, even though it has been hours since I left her at the mansion. I brush my thumb over my bottom lip, recalling the touch of hers in that fleeting moment. It took all of my self-control not to grab her that instant and bite at her tempting mouth.
I expected that problems may arise, that something may jeopardize my plan of vengeance or make things harder along the way. But I didn’t expect these to come in a shape of a woman with jewel-like eyes, who’s been constantly invading my mind. I want her out of my head. I wish I could take a fucking pair of pliers and dig out every single thought about her. It probably wouldn’t help. Even now, two hours after I dropped her off, I still have her scent in my nose.
My host comes to stand on my right, so I refocus on where I am. The small gap between the window and the table is barely ten inches high, just enough to allow my hands to slide through. Everything else is hidden behind the one-way glass screen.
The other three players are already in their seats, their faces hidden, but I can see their presence through the gaps. I’m assuming they each have a host at their side, just like mine is hovering close by. The man across from me has his right hand on the table, holding a lit cigar between his fingers. A thick gold ring with a red jewel is on his forefinger. Rocco Pisano.
I smile and place the pouch with the diamonds in front of me. Let the game begin.
***
“We’re done,” says the host to my opponent on the left.
Through the gap under the screen, I spot the man in a white suit slowly rise and leave his enclosure. His host follows him. The player to my right departed half an hour ago. That means only Rocco and I remain.
I lean back and observe Rocco’s hands visible beneath the one-way glass. He’s gripping the edge of the table so hard, that his knuckles turned white. There’s only one diamond left in front of him. Just enough for the ante, but he won’t be able to continue the game. All other stones used in the game so far are now mine.
Rocco’s hand shoots to the side, grabbing the wrist of his host standing to his right, pulling him closer. There is murmuring, and then the man steps back.
