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As a lover, as a plaything… I don’t care. But from everything I’ve managed to learn about Sebastian Wolfe, I know one thing matters most of all to him. Winning. Taking what other men prize, just to watch them lose it.
And he wants to beat Nero more than anything.
They’ve been locked in a battle of wills for the better part of a year now, ever since Nero intervened with his hostile takeover of the Sterling Cross luxury jewelry company. Threats were issued, violent ones, to make Wolfe Capital pull out, and I just know Sebastian’s been burning for payback ever since. He’s invited Nero to his card games before, wanting a chance to best him, but Nero never took the bait.
Miles wasn’t so lucky.
A waiter passes with a tray of champagne, and I grab a glass and take a gulp. I’m keeping my wits sharp tonight, but I need something to help take the edge off: that sting of grief that threatens to bubble to the surface every time I think of him.
Miles Romero. The only man I’ve ever loved. A good man, too, despite the blood and violence of the world we grew up in. He had a sweetness to him, a gentle, trusting side. He used to scold me for being so jaded. He said everyone had some good in them, if you looked hard enough.
Is that what he thought about Sebastian Wolfe, I wonder? Did he walk into a room like this one, thinking he could trust the men trading hundred-thousand-dollar gambling tokens like candy? That a man like Sebastian would play by the rules?
He should have known; the devil always wins.
And that’s what I’m counting on tonight.
“Smile, sweetheart,” Nero says loudly, pulling me back to our audience. He gives me a cocky smirk. “You’re here to look pretty, not scowl all night.”
“I’m sorry.” I murmur, forcing a nervous smile. Nero smirks wider. He knows that any other time, an instruction like that would earn him a slap. But we want to make it clear to the crowd, I have no say here. I’m just arm candy. A pretty bauble.
Ready to be traded.
“Well, look who we have here.” Sebastian Wolfe finally saunters to the table, taking his seat. “Nero Barretti,” he smirks, looking like it was a victory just having us here. “You finally decided to join us.”
Nero shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood, figured I’d check out your little game.”
“Little…” Sebastian echoes. He’s still smiling, but I can see the resentment in his eyes—burning almost as hot at the vengeance inside me. “You won’t have any problem meeting the buy-in, then?”
“Nah.” Nero pulls a roll of cash from his pocket and tosses it on the card table. “Two hundred Gs, right?”
“For starters.” Sebastian seems amused. “But I should warn you, it won’t last long.”
“I can handle my business.” Nero glares. He gives me the cash. “Hold it, babe.”
I tuck it into my purse, feeling Sebastian’s eyes on me. He doesn’t say anything though, just turns to the rest of the players and raises his glass. “Let the games begin.”
The dealer shuffles, and then it’s on. Hand after hand, the stakes getting higher with every game. Nero starts strong, the way we planned, but once there are just a few hardcore gamblers left at the table, he starts to slip: Betting wildly, drinking hard and cursing with every loss, growing more reckless as the night continues and his stack of chips disappears until finally, a hand comes around when everybody else has folded, and it’s just him and Sebastian left in the game.
I blink to attention, my pulse suddenly racing. This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for. My shot.
I lean forwards, on edge as Nero glances at his cards. “Raise,” he demands.
Sebastian quirks an eyebrow. “I believe your bank is empty.”
“Then fill it up,” Nero growls, stripping off his watch and tossing it in. “There, that’s worth a hundred grand, easy.”
Sebastian shrugs. “Suit yourself. I see your hundred… and I raise another two.”
There’s a buzz of excitement in the room. There must be a million bucks already on the table. But Nero is out of chips.
Sebastian’s smile grows wider. “Ready to call it a night?” he asks smugly.
“Fuck no,” Nero says, gulping scotch. “I’ll see your two and raise another two. I’m good for it.”
Sebastian’s lip curls. “We don’t accept IOUs here.”
Nero shoves back from the table so hard the glasses rattle. “Are you questioning my word?”
