Chapter 12
I tiptoe from Julian’s office as if I were the Hamburglar, about to rob the casino for Big Macs, and land in a quiet hallway.
Every door is closed, and I hear voices behind one.
I turn on my heel and move in the opposite direction, toward the chaotic noise. I know I’m close to my destination when I hear loud music and the sound of slot machines ringing. When I hit the casino floor, I stand there in awe, taking in the scene.
I’ve been to the New York Lucky Kings, but not this location. Atlantic City puts the New York location to shame. When Pippa told me about Julian opening a casino on his own, I was excited for him. He’d always preferred doing stuff solo.
New York’s aesthetic borderlines what you’d find in Vegas.
Bright lights, neon decor, and gold ceilings.
Julian’s is ritzy and screams old money, reminding me of The Great Gatsby .
Like his office, it’s sophisticated.
It’s where you’d picture men in the Roaring Twenties illegally gambling in private rooms, smoking cigars, and making high-stake bets.
Even the slot machines, while electronic, still appear like the classic ones.
Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their lights reflecting off the machine screens.
I head straight to the blackjack table.
My late nanny, Sonya— may she rest in peace —taught me to play when I was seven. Playing cards was a regular pastime for us. When I couldn’t sleep, she’d make me a cup of hot cocoa, and we’d play until I started yawning.
Three men are seated at the table, and they watch me in curiosity as I sit.
One smirks, as if he can’t wait to take my money.
The other winks at me, perking up in his chair.
I force an innocent smile, excited to take their money .
The dealer furrows his brow, as if my sitting down annoys him. He cocks his head to the side, suddenly intrigued, when I pull out the cash from my purse.
I count out five crisp hundreds and slide the bills to the dealer. He exchanges them for chips, and my pulse speeds.
Here we go .
It’s been a while since I played, but with all my troubles, it’s like this is what I needed tonight.
A comfort, like all those cups of hot cocoa.
The dealer wins the first round, just as I planned.
The man at the far end wins the second.
I win the third, fourth, and fifth.
“Hello, Genesis.”
I freeze, panic charging through me. Chills sweep up my spine at the voice that’s haunted me for the past two days.
I struggle to keep my composure as Dima sits beside me—so close that he’s nearly on my stool. His wide shoulder bumps into mine, and he steals a stack of my chips. The dealer’s attention whips to me, and I slowly nod, not wanting to make a scene.
Dima’s cologne is strong, almost suffocating. He’s dressed in a black suit with a black button-up. A snake ring, nearly as large as his hand, is on his pointer finger. It matches the snake tattoo that runs from his hand up his wrist.
I don’t say a word to him, only tell the dealer my calls, and win the round.
Dima grunts in disapproval, glares at the dealer, and steals more of my chips.
I win another round.
“Son of a bitch,” he hisses, slamming his hand on the table.
I don’t know why he’s so mad. It’s not his money he’s losing. I’m just taking mine back.
Staring straight ahead, I lower my voice so only he can hear me. “What are you doing here?” I’m shocked at how assertive I sound.
“Watching you, nevesta .” He edges so close that I feel his breath hit my cheek. “Keeping an eye on what’s mine.”
My stomach drops as I fight for words.
The reality is that there’s a possibility that I will be his.
“Please go away.” I ask, every muscle in my body tense. “I’m trying to gamble here.”
“Ahh.” His gaze latches on me, his lips forming a cunning smirk. “If your plan is to win money to pay off your father’s debt with me, that’ll never happen, nevesta .”
He runs his hand down my thigh, and I shove it off.
“I have my eye on you, Genesis.” He stands, towering over me, and lowers his mouth to my ear. “Soon, you’ll be mine.”
“Too late,” I murmur, wishing I hadn’t said a word and just let him walk away, but I keep talking. “Julian already signed a contract with your father.”
He stands tall, straightening his sleeves. “A contract has never stopped me from getting what I want.” Reaching out, he grabs a strand of my hair and twirls it around his finger. “I can’t wait to tug on this when I force you on your knees to suck my cock.”
I stare at him, speechless.
“No need to say anything,” he says. “I prefer my women stay silent.”