Chapter 4
Sticking to corners that kept me out of my Little Spade’s line of sight, I tracked her every move as Monica grudgingly followed my orders and got her signed up for this evening’s blackjack tournament.
Part of the driving force behind the event was hoping that maybe it would be the thing that drew her into my world.
The other part was securing my influence over Superbia’s most powerful forces.
Knowing the debts of your enemies made them your allies, and knowing the debts of your allies? Well, that made you untouchable.
The constant calls and texts went ignored. The continuous buzzing of my phone in my pocket put the market’s top vibrator to shame. I had waited for this day too damn long to be distracted by anything that didn’t involve watching or fucking the object of my obsession.
When I tried to get another read on her abilities, I was surprised to feel her powers brush up against mine.
As difficult as it was to explain, when our powers met, it felt like the caress of a velvety tongue across my soul.
Having no interest in spoiling my surprise just yet, I metaphysically pushed back against her precognition.
An illicit thrill overcame me when her powers submissively recoiled. The idea of any part of her bowing down and surrendering to me had my dick stiffening in my pants. Though if I were honest, it’d never really gone soft after seeing her walk straight into my domain.
Fuck, I was looking forward to having her writhing beneath me in a state of unparalleled ecstasy. It would be my entire life’s mission, other duties sworn to through my Knighthood be damned
Now that my Little Spade was on my turf, I would never let her leave.
After Ignatius left to play his role in my genius plan to keep her inside my casino, I felt comfortable enough to take my leave to finalize my plans for the evening.
She was in good hands with the only stylist I trusted.
He would make sure she would shine brighter than every other person in the tournament room.
Even diamonds, after all, shone brighter when you angled the light just so.
Rummaging through the box of registration forms, I quickly found the one my heart’s ultimate desire had filled out. I reviewed every detail she had so willingly revealed about herself.
Genevieve Bechette. Native to Superbia. Purebred demon.
Scoffing at the section where she should have listed special talents, I noticed she conveniently left out that she was a precognitive as well.
I would have to do something about that later, something that involved my hand landing on her bare ass.
Let her see each one of those coming and count them twice.
The most important part of the form was where her signature fell just beneath the lengthy fine print. With her name inked in bubbly script, she committed to play by my rules if she made it to the SWR—the Specialty Wager Room.
My favorite area of Sevenfold was the SWR, where nearly anything was allowed. Wanted to bet years of your life? Go for it. Wagering your future offspring? Permissible. It was one of the few areas inside the building where open use of one’s abilities was allowed.
Committing every detail about my girl to memory, I returned the clipboard to its place before leaving to meet with my hospitality team.
Each patron who came in for the night needed to witness firsthand just how superior Sevenfold Casino was to any other establishment.
They needed to leave, raving about how Ace Reynard hosted events that were the epitome of obscene luxury.
Every player was to be treated like a king or queen, except for my Little Spade.
She would be treated like a goddess for everyone to bow down before and worship.
In return, as my sex goddess, she would only kneel before me.
Before the end of the night, I’d have her worshiping my cock until she learned exactly who she belonged to.
When the doors opened at six, guests slowly filtered into the ballroom.
The wide-eyed awe and soft gasps of admiration were music to my soul.
Each pristine detail that went into making this event the talk of the town amongst Superbia’s most influential inhabitants quickly made waves if the chatter was anything to go by.
Precious stones were sculpted into statues around the room, each artistic carving representing one of the four suits in a deck of cards.
The heart sculpture was encrusted with rubies dripping with seraph blood, the carving shaped as a club was made of devil lotus freshly snipped from the third circle of hell, and the massive diamond was reaped straight from the depths of an underwater volcano by a leviathan.
That left my favorite of them all—the spade.
A gift from the Sidero family, Superbian royalty under my protection as their assigned Knight of Hell, the spade’s edges were razor sharp where needed and the curves were smooth as polished marble.
It was constructed from dragon onyx and coated in ashes of those who had wrongly crossed the path of those to whom I was most loyal.
The perfect centerpiece to what would be an extraordinary evening.
All the cocktail waitresses wore priceless jewelry, pieces that were worth far more than the women themselves. The accessories were provided on loan, under threat of inescapable pain and suffering should the items not be returned.
Was the extravagant display of lavish riches nearly sickening? Yes. Did I think it needed a little more to get my point across? Also, very much yes.
I stood in the back corner, flipping my ace of spades between the fingers of my left hand while I waited.
The card appeared to have a mind of its own as it slid between each of my digits.
There was never a day that I didn’t have it on me.
Call it superstition if you wanted, but in my experience, this little artifact had served me well.
Just as I felt the swell of something akin to panic grow in my chest when my Little Spade hadn’t yet shown, my breath was torn from my lungs. In an instant, my evergreen hues locked onto her when she crossed the threshold into the ballroom.
Her presence caused everything else around her to disappear.
The tips of her warm Venetian blonde locks caressed her fair skin as she walked, the strands extending down to the middle of her rib cage.
The little black dress I had purchased for her exceeded even my expectations.
I had assumed perfection, but what I saw was nothing short of fucking divine.
The thin straps clung to her petite shoulders, the sharp plunge of the neckline exposed enough of her cleavage to have saliva pooling inside my mouth, and the way it tightly wrapped around her body in such a sexy little package left me hard enough to question how secure the zipper was on my pants.
The main focal point of the dress was the twin silver lines, where metallic threads crisscrossed along the fabric, starting just below each breast and running to the hem.
That right there was what did me in, knowing I could unwrap her like the damn treat she was.
As her hips swayed with her movements, the overhead lighting caught the corseted threads making them flash like lightning strikes with every step.
The sass my Little Spade walked with in her lacy black heels exuded confidence and grace.
Her lean legs were left exposed, showing off the firm shape of the muscles in them.
It was an indication that she kept fit—when she wasn’t trying to rob me.
The only fitness plan she had to worry about from then on would involve riding my dick.
I wasn’t the only one appreciating the sight of my Little Spade.
Wandering eyes from the other participants were also drawn to her.
Whatever insidious thoughts they were having about her pissed me off.
None of them deserved to fantasize about what already belonged to me.
I could already feel the burn of hellfire heating my runes as I imagined ripping out their spinal cords, inch by painful inch.
Once I put my mark on her, there would be no denying who she belonged to. Nobody would dare insult the symbol of my declaration by looking at her twice.
Replacing the violent thoughts, a more pleasant scenario filled my imagination—those legs of hers draped over my shoulders as I rocked my hard as fuck cock into her.
Soon. Tonight.
Watching her take a seat at her assigned table, I had hardly realized the playing card in my hand had ceased its movement, frozen between my middle and index fingers. With one slick move, I slid it back up my sleeve now that I had a view worthy of my full attention.
Genevieve sat in the chair, gracefully crossing one leg over the other as she got comfortable.
Her foot lazily bobbed up and down as the tournament host made his opening remarks.
He restated the rules and sequence of the night’s events.
With one final reminder, he reiterated that any use of paranormal abilities would not be tolerated.
Smirking to myself, I hoped my naughty spade would break that rule. I wanted to be the one to catch her in the act and show her what happened when my rules were broken.
The first round began as players started with conservative bets and gradually grew either more or less confident as each hand was dealt. My eyes never left the table where my precog in pretty packaging played.
Show me what you got, baby.