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I force a smile, masking the disdain running through me. "Mr. Nicolaevich. It seems we move in the same circles."
His eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark in his gaze. "Indeed. Shall we play?" He sweeps his hand toward the poker table before us.
“We shall.”
I ease into my seat, the rest of the guests making their way to tables of their own. I pick up my cards, my mind racing. Roman's presence has complicated things, but I can't let it distract me. I have a job to do.
As the night wears on and the cards are dealt and played, I can't shake the feeling Roman is watching me, studying me, searching for something. The game has taken on a new dimension, and I know I'm not just playing poker.
I'm playing a dangerous game with a man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain. A man who, like me, knows the stakes are higher than they appear.
A man who wants to win at all costs.
Chapter 5
Roman
Something about Galina catches the eye and refuses to let go. Her brown hair cascades in soft waves, framing a face both fierce and delicate, her chocolate eyes holding a depth that's almost intoxicating.
But her body is what truly captivates me. She's curvaceous yet incredibly fit, her figure sculpted in a way that suggests both strength and sensuality. Every movement she makes is a dance, a subtle invitation to come closer, to touch, to explore.
The cut of her dress accentuates her curves, clinging to her form in a way that leaves little to the imagination. I find myself thinking very dirty thoughts, indeed. Thoughts of taking her, of bending her to my will and pleasuring her in ways she's never experienced.
I imagine the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin against mine, the sound of her moans as I drive her to the edge of ecstasy and beyond. The fantasies are vivid, the desire almost a physical ache that gnaws at my restraint.
It's unlike me to be so affected, so caught up in the allure of a woman I barely know. But Galina is a temptation I'm finding hard to resist. The way she carries herself, the glint in her eye, the confidence in her stride – everything about her calls to the primal, dominant part of me that wants to possess, to conquer, to savor.
What on earth is Galina doing at this high-stakes game of poker in a room filled with power brokers, criminals, and wealthy socialites?
Who is she?
I can't shake the memory of her at the gala, the way she danced, her intelligent eyes sparkling with defiance, the curve of her smile hinting at secrets. She looked the part of a rich heiress, but something in the way she held herself suggested more beneath the surface.
Watching her now, mingling with people who could buy or sell lives with a snap of their fingers, I can't help but feel intrigued. She doesn't look out of place, but she doesn't seem to belong here either. Her elegance is unforced, her confidence unshaken, yet she exudes a sense of danger that's both alluring and mysterious.
Could she have accidentally stumbled into this viper's nest, unaware of the true nature of the game? Perhaps she's merely here for the thrill, to rub elbows with those who play for keeps. It's plausible, but my gut tells me there's more to her story.
I am drawn to her, eager to peel back the layers and uncover who Galina truly is. The women I usually associate with are transparent, their intentions as clear as glass. Galina is different – an enigma wrapped in elegance, her very presence a challenge I can't ignore.
"Roman," one of my new acquaintances calls, momentarily breaking my focus. I nod, my mind still on Galina, who's stepped away from the table for a moment and is now engaged in conversation with a man I recognize as Dmitry, a known aide to the late mayor. He’s flirting with her in an obvious, clumsy manner, and to my shock, she’s smiling back as if his sloppy ploys were actually working.
A spark of jealousy ignites within me, irrational yet persistent. Why am I so fixated on this woman?
Shaking off my momentary distraction, I refocus on the game at hand. This is no place to let emotions get the best of me. I'm here for a purpose, to weave a web of influence and alliances that will further my goals in St. Petersburg. But Galina's presence is a siren's call, pulling me toward her, promising mysteries and pleasures that beckon me to explore.
I watch as she takes a sip of her drink, her eyes meeting mine across the room. In that instant, our connection is electric, a charge that travels down my spine, awakening a desire that's both thrilling and disconcerting.
I turn my attention back to the table, eyes fixed on Galina as she sits back down, taking her hand and examining it before confidently tossing her cards into the pot. She's good, very good, winning hand after hand with grace and poise. I find myself both drawn to her skill and challenged by it.
But I'm no novice at this game, and I decide to lose a few rounds on purpose, using the opportunity to study her. How she holds her cards, the way her eyes flicker, the subtle shift in her expression when she's bluffing or holding a winning hand.
As I observe her, I realize she's doing the same, those deep brown eyes studying me with an intensity that sends a thrill down my spine. The air between us crackles with tension, thick and heavy, laden with unspoken promises and provocations.
"You're losing on purpose," she finally comments, her voice as sharp as a blade, yet laced with a sultry undertone.
"Am I now?" I reply, leaning back and giving her a slow, deliberate smile. "Maybe I'm just enjoying the view."
She raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk that's equal parts challenge and invitation. "Careful, Mr. Nicolaevich. Confidence can be your downfall."
