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I wasn’t worried about external bugs, but internal ones. My capos were loyal to me, but I didn’t trust that their loyalty wouldn’t shift the next time someone with a dick got the idea to take me out. So I kept them busy and comfortable while I watched their every move. Now that Cash was around, we were balancing on a tight wire, and I needed everything going my way.
Moore finished his search and found his place again. “We’re clear.”
“Good. I want eyes on Joaquin and his crew going forward. They’ve always been opportunistic, and I don’t want them thinking now’s the time for a coup.”
Tennessee crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. “I’ll handle it.”
“Good. Now, let’s talk Cash. He’s going to assume I’ll lie low and recover—if he thinks I’m alive at all. We’ll use it to our advantage.”
Dominic cocked his head. “How?”
“Eyes everywhere. The Aces will get bold if they think I’m gone. They’ll assume the organization will be in tatters and everyone will be scrambling for power. They won’t be as vigilant as they were before, so they’ll give us more information. Locations, people, routines.”
“What about the other leaders?” Greyson asked.
“We need to show everyone that any rumors they heard are just that—rumors. Marianna Marcosa is fine. Anyone saying otherwise is an incorrect idiot.”
“How are you going to do that?” Nate asked.
Batting my eyelashes with all the false innocence I could muster, I grinned. “Poker, of course.”
Chapter Six
Greyson
While Gilded was the first official neutral space in the city, it wasn’t technically the only one. Hidden places where the denizens of Seattle did their work were owned by the city but were slated for our use only. They’d been gifts, a good-faith measure to Mari and her empire. It was an unusual situation, but we’d spent the first bloody few years of her reign cleaning up the streets and removing most of the gangs that were making it dangerous to walk alone at night. The city’s political sphere couldn’t actively condone our actions, but they were grateful, and the meeting zones were their show of appreciation. In the end, it’d worked out for everyone. The off-record buildings gave us more than a bit of freedom. The Cardinal was one of them.
The run-down hotel had been abandoned fifty years ago when the owners went bankrupt, and because of structural damages, it never resold. Until the city bought it for us, it had remained frozen in time. From the outside, it looked nothing like it used to. The shuttered windows were cracked and drooping, graffiti littered the once-pristine brick, and the sidewalk outside had craters that threatened the ankles of everyone who walked past. The inside was another matter entirely, but most people never made it that far, avoiding even glancing at it because it practically looked haunted. They didn’t see what I did.
Micro cameras picking up every face on the street were surrounded by graffiti so thick the metal blended into the harsh colors of the paint nearby. The people drifting around the street who appeared dazed and out of touch with reality were actually watching everyone. Their only job was to report movement and keep the unsuspecting from stumbling upon something they shouldn’t. People only saw what they wanted to, and we used that to our advantage.
I followed Mari through the opulent hallways—restored by the city and kept religiously clean by the housekeepers we employed—to the back of the building, where a hidden door took us to the basement. The upper floors had been renovated too, but they were a sort of haven in case the worst came to pass. A safe house for everyone to use, though no one ever did. It was too hard to fortify the building.
The three security checkpoints we had to pass through just to get through the door were slow and bothersome but were needed, considering who was waiting in the other room. Every two weeks, the leaders of Seattle sat down for a friendly poker game. The stakes were high, the gossip elite, and the drinks flowed freely and without judgment. More than once, the players had to be peeled off their chairs and forced into waiting cars by their sober seconds. Normally, it was one of Mari’s favorite events, but with the opening of Gilded, she hadn’t been able to go personally in months, so she’d sent envoys instead. Dominic and I had each taken a few turns. Hell, Moore had gone once, though he was immediately asked not to return because he was a cheat.
How a group of criminals couldn’t handle cheating at a card game, I’d never understand.
Despite how much she enjoyed the game, we’d all tried to convince Mari to stay home. It was too soon after she’d been hurt, and she was barely walking straight, though I knew it hurt her to do even that. Even Moore and Tennessee had pleaded with her to send someone else, anyone else, but Mari overruled us.
“I’m injured, not dead. If I don’t show my face, the rumors will gain more traction, and we don’t have the time or resources to fight two uprisings. I appreciate the sentiment, but queens don’t get days off, and if they did, I’ve used all mine up. Now, who’s coming with me?”
Cameron was her first choice, but he was busy watching his father. Since Joaquin had no knowledge of her abduction, he’d assumed she’d been injured in the fire. None of us believed he was happy his niece had survived, so Tennessee’s men had an around-the-clock watch on him in case he decided to do something stupid.
Dominic offered to take Cameron’s place as escort, but Mari declined on the grounds that he would overcrowd her. Tennessee and Moore were vetoed for the same reason, and I agreed. Their natural overprotectiveness would just point a neon sign at Mari’s injuries, and we couldn’t do that. The game was a statement that no one could kill the Marcosa queen, and that didn’t leave room for kissing boo-boos.
That left Nate and me. He was the better choice since I was still aching from my own injuries at the warehouse, but he was new, and while Mari had decided to trust him, she wasn’t going to start that relationship in a room full of all the leaders. Not when she didn’t know if Nate could play in our world and not when things weren’t stable. Surprisingly, he’d agreed. He felt he didn’t know enough about the players to be an effective bodyguard. He couldn’t protect her against threats he didn’t understand, so the others promised to get him up to speed while we were gone.
I walked in behind Mari, trailing my eyes along the black jumpsuit she wore. The front had a halter neck that normally showed her shoulders and back, but she wore a cropped jacket to cover the bruises that were still visible. The cut flattered the curve of her waist and hips, drawing the eye there first before it dipped to her hips. It usually flashed a hint of those mile-long legs as the slit up the sides moved when she did, but the bruises made that impossible. A disgruntled Gretchen had agreed to adjust the legs to be completely closed this time—after doubling her normal Mari fee. The fabric skimming over the muscles was just tight enough to show that Mari had them without giving the definition of any bandages she wore. It was the best we could do.
Even completely covered, she was stunning and sexy, and I was debating if I really hurt badly enough to forgo sex for a while. The only reason I didn’t jump her on the way over was her own injuries, but the way her ass swayed in front of me, I was ready to rethink that decision.
I could just eat her out the whole time. She wouldn’t have to do a thing. Just lie back and let me do my job.
Mari clicked her tongue, and I looked up to see her smirking at me.
“Put your tongue away. We’re here.”
I pressed in close, savoring the contact. I’d thought we’d lost her, and it had stung worse than death ever could. I kissed along her neck, enjoying the little squirm and soft sigh she tried to hide from me. “If you think I’ll ever stop looking at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, you’re wrong. I’m grateful for you, reina, and the second you’re cleared for it, I’m going to remind you just how much I want you.”
