5. Marcus
“ W akey, wakey.” A loud voice pulls me out of sleep, and when I open my eyes, my vision is instantly flooded with brightness, as I find the curtains have been pulled wide open.
One wall of my bedroom has floor-to-ceiling windows, and they open onto a wrap-around balcony that has a gorgeous view over the city from high up in my penthouse apartment. Normally, I love the view, but right now, all it’s doing is making the pounding in my head worse.
I slam my eyes closed with a groan as I lift my hands to cover my ears. Unfortunately, I can still hear Miles’ annoying voice. “Wake up, Marcus.”
“Fuck off,” I growl, not interested in what he has to say.
Sadly, my best friend is a massive arsehole, and doesn’t listen to a word I have to say. He rips the duvet off my body, and I groan as the cool air hits me, disturbing my cosy slumber.
“Sorry, but I can’t. You need to get up. We have a meeting in an hour, and you need a bucket of coffee and a shower before I get in a car with you,” he replies, pulling my hands away from my face, before placing something into my palm.
I squint one eye open enough to see the painkillers he’s handed me, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see he’s holding out a glass of water.
With a grumble that’s far less polite than he deserves, I take the pills, drinking several more gulps of water afterwards. The cool liquid is refreshing to my dry throat.
“What happened to not letting me drink?” I ask, sounding more gravelly than usual.
“I’m your bodyguard, Marcus, not your mother. Besides, you left and asked me to keep an eye on that fuckwit, Jacob. He’s a full-time job on his own,” Miles grumbles, as he takes a seat in the chair next to the window.
“That he is,” I agree, wincing as I sit up and my head spins.
“What the hell happened to you last night? You went outside with Chloe, and I didn’t see you again for nearly half an hour. Then next time I see you, you’re downing shots like you’re back in college.”
Flashes of the night before flicker in my mind, and although my head is hazy, thanks to the hangover, I remember every part of the evening—even the bits I might want to forget.
“Urgh,” I groan again, wondering how the hell I managed to get myself into this mess.
Miles chuckles from his seat, and I throw him a glare that would cut a lesser man down, but he just rolls his eyes at me.
“You’ve been keeping away from her for years. Now you find out she’s fucking engaged to some prick, and you think this is the right time to do something about how you feel.”
I narrow my gaze at him, balling my hands into fists. “I don’t have fucking feelings for her. I’ve been telling you to stop saying that shit for years. Even if I found her attractive, she couldn’t be any more off-limits if she tried, especially now she’s engaged.”
“So what were you doing in the alley with her? When you came back inside, it didn’t look like you’d just been talking. She had a very distinct ‘just fucked’ vibe about her,” he replies smugly, and I have to resist the urge to pick up my gun.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I grind out, the anger fizzling under the surface makes me snap much easier than I normally would. “We were just talking. Jacob didn’t see us, did he?”
Suddenly, the logical part of my brain takes over and I’m worried. There are a lot of reasons why I’ve been pushing Chloe away for years, pretending not to see the way she looks at me.
The biggest reason is the peace treaty between our families. Although it’s in place now, we are—and will always be—rivals, and it won’t take much for the peace to shatter, bringing back the war our fathers have tried to hold at bay for almost thirty years.
“No, he didn’t see you. He was too busy trying to convince anyone with tits to sleep with him. Well, that and drinking your bar dry. Man, can that guy down a shot!” he grumbles with a humourless laugh.
We both know how reckless Jacob can be, and I’m sure the assignment I gave my friend was not an easy one.
“Thank you for keeping an eye on him for me.”
Miles’ glare narrows and he pulls back his shoulders slightly, looking more professional than a moment ago. “Don’t ever ask me to do that again. You are the person I’m supposed to be protecting. When I’m on duty, I’m not your friend. Last night, I let you tell me what to do, as though you were speaking to a friend. As a result, I didn’t have eyes on you for over half an hour, and barely kept track of you for the rest of the night.
“I know we have the best security staff at Caged, but anything could have happened to you. I wouldn’t have been there to do my job because you asked me to be somewhere else. If anything happened, it would have been completely my fault. I may have followed your orders yesterday, but I shouldn’t have. It was unprofessional of me, and I’m asking you not to put me in that position again.”
No matter how much I glare at my friend, he doesn’t back down. He holds his head high, his back ramrod straight, and I know he’s serious. I pushed him too far this time, and a sinking feeling sits in my gut.
I drag my hand over my face before running my fingers through my hair in frustration. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I grumble uncomfortably.
Miles nods his head once, and then relaxes back into the chair. He knows how much I fucking hate apologising, and like the fucking great friend that he is, he doesn’t drag it out for me.
“Good. Are you gonna tell me what happened with Chloe?” He wags his eyebrows dramatically, like I’m keeping good gossip from him.
I groan, resisting the urge to throw myself back into the comfort of my bed. Instead, I get up and head towards the en-suite to get ready for the meeting I’d almost forgotten about.
“Would you believe me if I said nothing?”
Miles lets out a laugh that sounds suspiciously more like a snort. “Fuck, no.”
“Will you drop it if I tell you?”
He pauses for a second, contemplating his options. “Okay.”
“I made a deal with her. I will help her delay her wedding for a few weeks, in exchange for her help with getting Jacob back on the wagon,” I explain, shouting through the door of the bathroom, so he can still hear me while I’m getting ready.
“You’re telling me that you had the girl you’ve had a crush on for as long as I can remember in a dark alleyway, while she was looking hot as Hell, and all you did is talk? I call bullshit,” he yells through the door, and I roll my eyes as I finish brushing my teeth.
“I have not had a crush on her?—”
Before I can even get the lie out of my mouth, Miles cuts me off. “BULLSHIT!”
“Fine, we fooled around a bit, but it can’t happen again.” I don’t know if I say that more for his benefit or mine.
I can hear Miles chuckle from the next room. “There’s no way you can keep away from her. She’s been drawing you in slowly like a moth to a flame for years. I’m actually impressed you’ve not cracked before now.”
“Look, you asked and I told you. We’re working together to help Jacob. That’s all.”
“And the fact you offered to help her delay her wedding played no part at all? How the fuck are you going to pull that one off, by the way?”
I wince, wondering the same fucking thing. “I don’t know, but if I can do it, I will.”
“Of course, you will. You don’t want her to marry him,” he says slowly, like I’m not keeping up with the conversation.
“She doesn’t want to marry him,” I grind out.
“That’s not how it works in this world, and you know it. She’s a mafia princess… She was always going to have an arranged marriage. I’m surprised it’s only just been arranged. Most of these things are sorted at birth,” he replies, and I hate the way my stomach flips as he reminds me of the world Chloe has been forced into.
Whilst me and Jacob have always known we’d be leaders, and our paths have been set since birth, that doesn’t mean our families have an easier time.
I’m an only child, so the pressure on me is immense. Whereas, Jacob has Chloe, and whilst she will never be a leader, the expectations on women in our world are, to an extent, even greater.
Their role is to ensure the longevity of the family. They’re raised knowing they’ll marry into a family of their fathers’ choosing. It’ll be a marriage of convenience, not love. It will strengthen their family’s position.
Then, once they’re married, they’ll be expected to produce an heir straight away. They have a level of responsibility that rivals that of the heir, and I couldn’t be more glad I don’t have a sister to protect from all this bullshit .
“Jacob will want to protect her from it too,” I state, knowing my argument is getting weaker by the second.
We all know I’m not trying to help Chloe because I see her as being like a sister to me. There’s nothing familial about my feelings towards her.
“Look, we can argue about you denying your feelings another time. We can also brainstorm ideas for how you’re going to help Chloe delay her impending nuptials in the car. But for the love of God, please get in the shower and then get out here quickly.
“We have to leave soon or we’ll be late. If you’re late to one more meeting, your father says he’s going to chop one of my bollocks off, and I’m keen on them both. They like being a pair. Now, get a fucking move on,” he shouts, and I can’t help but laugh.
My father has been issuing threats to Miles for years in an effort to have him keep me in line. He never wanted me to hire a friend as my Head of Security. He claimed it was dangerous, but nobody will put their life on the line for me more than Miles.
We both know Father wanted to hire someone who would spy on me for him, which Miles absolutely won’t do. He respects my father and his position of authority, but he’s loyal to me.
I shout a few obscenities his way before climbing in the shower. I have to turn it to cold as soon as thoughts of Chloe from last night take over. I only got a small taste of her, and I already know it will never be enough. I want all of her, and all of the reasons I have for keeping away from her are growing more inconsequential with each stroke of my dick.
***
After the day I’ve had, I want nothing more than to cancel our monthly poker night and stay home, but tonight is more important than ever.
I put myself on a big clock when I agreed to help Chloe delay her wedding, or at the very least get her some freedom before the big day. She’s supposed to get married in six weeks, which means I have to put my plan into action today.
Miles and I spent the whole day, when we weren’t in boring fucking meetings, hashing out ideas, but none of them seemed to come together until right at the end. I have a plan… well, it’s more of a fucking wing and a prayer at this point, but it’s all we’ve got.
After taking some pills to get rid of the headache that’s been plaguing me all day, I change out of my suit and pull on my comfy grey sweatpants. Although I hate wearing the suit, my father is right when he says people view me differently when they see me in that compared to my jeans and leather jacket.
I’m quite young for a mafia leader. Most fathers keep hold of their title for as long as they can, only passing over the reins when they absolutely have to. But not in Blackthorn. When the peace treaty was drawn up, it was decided that no ruler shall remain in power beyond their heir’s thirtieth birthday.
The idea is that the longer you’re in power, the less you'll want to give it up. Also, bringing in new, fresh blood means more up-to-date ideas, and our relatives felt that was the key to ensuring our treaty remains successful.
Although our fathers don’t have to hand the position over to us yet, they made the decision to do it in stages. We took on the title of rulers when we turned twenty-five, but our fathers remained in an advisory capacity. Whilst we don’t have to answer to them, it would be massively disrespectful not to.
They have five years to mould us into the leaders they want us to be, before they’re forced to retire officially. With that being only two years away now, that is why Jacob’s father is making plans to replace him if he doesn’t get his act together.
After three years in the role, Jacob should be showing the type of leader he wants to be, the same way I am, yet he continues to rebel. Caleb will only tolerate it for so long.
Part of the process of learning the ropes involves building trust and respect with the people who work for me. They may have pledged their allegiance to my family, specifically my father, but that doesn’t automatically transfer over to me. I have to earn their respect, and that’s what I’ve been doing.
I’ve been meeting with each and every business representative. Everyone from upper level managers to lower level pushers. I want to know every single person who works for me, and I need for them to get a feel for the type of leader I am. It’s the only way to foster trust between us.
That doesn’t mean the meetings aren’t tedious as hell. Though today’s first meeting was a little more interesting, as I think we’ve identified a possible rat within our organisation. The fun part will be when we find the rat and I get to show him exactly who he’s messed with.
Sadly, that was today’s only bit of fun. Combine boring meetings with an awful fucking hangover, and a raging boner that won’t go away—since I can’t stop thinking about the feel of Chloe’s warm cunt clamping down on my fingers—makes for a shitty fucking day.
Even worse luck, poker night is being held at Jacob’s flat tonight, which means I have to go out. Granted, he only lives in the building across the street, but still. I pull a black hoodie on and grumble all the way over.
I don’t bother taking any security with me. Miles has the night off, and Jacob has more than enough security to cover us both. When I host, I put on a full security team, so it’s only fair my team gets the night off when we’re at Jake’s.
Having said that, I know someone will be on standby watching the security footage, ready to breach in seconds should anything happen. At the end of the day, Jacob’s staff are employed to protect him and his family, so I would never be their priority.
After the obligatory pat-down to make sure I’ve not brought any weapons with me, except the one gun we’re each allowed, one of Jacob’s security team leads me over to the lift, which takes me up to his penthouse.
Jacob lives in the building opposite mine, but other than the fact we both live in the penthouse, that’s where the similarities end. While my apartment has a very modern yet homey feel, Jacob’s is a full blown bachelor pad.
His walls are painted navy blue, and wherever you look there’s technology to make the room appear advanced. Everything is controlled by a home computer system, even the heating under the floorboards and the blackout covers on the windows.
While my place is light and airy, Jacob’s feels dark and stuffy. Every time I walk in here, I want to throw the window open to let some fresh air in, and get some natural fucking light into the room.
If it weren’t for the cleaning team he employs, I’m sure this place would look worse than a dirty frat house full of teenage boys who don’t know how to work a washing machine.
Jacob is sitting at the poker table already, taking a swig from his beer bottle, when I walk into the room. It’s cloudy and stuffy, even though Jacob doesn’t smoke.
“Fuck, do any of your windows actually open? You do know what fresh air is, don’t you?” I grumble, as I walk into the kitchen and grab a beer for myself from the fridge.
Jake tuts loudly. “You know you sound like a fucking old man, right?”
I shrug my shoulders, not bothering to reply to that. To a perpetual man child, my response sounds like something an old man would say, as opposed to simply an adult. I learnt a long time ago to pick my battles with Jake, and this one isn’t worth it.
I take a seat opposite him at the table, drinking down a large gulp of my beer. Beer’s not my favourite, but it’s become part of the tradition—we play poker, eat crisps, and drink beer.
“You look like shit,” Jake says with a grin once I place my drink on the table.
He’s not lying. I have bags under my eyes from lack of sleep, and I’ve been running my fingers through my hair so much, I’m sure it’s a mess.
“I can’t seem to get over a hangover the way I used to do when I was eighteen,” I grumble, hating how fucking old that makes me sound.
Jacob chuckles, but he nods like he understands. “That’s why I take the ‘hair of the dog’ approach. ”
I roll my eyes at him. “Being drunk continuously is not an option for most people.”
“I’m not always drunk. Sometimes I’m just high,” he states with a wink. I have to remind myself not to punch my friend.
“You’re a real life fucking Peter Pan. The boy who never grows up.”
I hate how bitter the words sound on my tongue. Although I need Jake to grow the fuck up, I’m also a little jealous that he’s avoided the responsibilities that have been thrust upon me.
Actually, his lack of action as the heir to his side of Blackthorn means I have even more work to do. I’ve been trying to make sure Jake’s family is unaware of his failings. If they knew how little he was actually doing, they’d have gotten rid of him a long time ago.
In our world, business comes first, family second. No matter how much Caleb wants to pass power over to Jake, if he thinks he’s not capable of running the Santoros, he’ll get rid of him in a flash, without a second thought that he’s his son.
Love and family are a weakness, and the family business will always be the priority. Which is exactly why I need to get Jake to stop fucking around, or he may lose more than just his position in the family.
Nobody leaves our world. The only way you get out is to retire, at which point you’ve proved you’re trustworthy, or you die. Jacob definitely hasn’t proven he can be trusted, and no matter how much Caleb might love him, he would have no choice to take him out if that’s what the family requested.
I need to stop things before that happens.
“What can I say, I have no desire to grow up and turn out like my father.” His face wrinkles in disgust, and I can see the anger he’s trying not to show.
We’ve both spent our whole lives promising, even when we do become the full-time leaders of our family, we’ll never be like our fathers.
Neither of us have had enough to drink yet to tackle that subject, so I quickly change direction. “Well, I’m hoping you’re more hungover than I am, as I could do with a win today,” I say with a grin as I nod towards the pack of cards that are sitting unopened on the table.
Jake chuckles as he picks them up and starts to shuffle. “I’m nowhere near drunk enough to lose.”
“Well, I need to get you onto the harder stuff then.” It sounds like I’m joking with him, but I’m not. For once, I need him to hit it hard, if I’m to stand any chance of this shitty plan working.
“Here, you finish shuffling and I’ll get the good whiskey.” He hands the pack of cards over to me before heading into the kitchen .
“Don’t forget the crisps,” I shout, knowing I’m going to need nibbles if I keep drinking this beer.
Jake returns, placing a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers onto the table, before handing over a large packet of crisps. I look at him with disgust. “At my house, I, at least, serve the crisps in a fucking bowl,” I grumble, ripping the large pack open so I can grab some.
Jake rolls his eyes at me while pouring two very large doubles of whiskey. He hands one to me, but I set it onto the table as I pass the cards back to him. I think I’ll stick to beer for now.
As he shuffles one more time, he glances up at me, suddenly looking more serious than I’m used to. “So, down to official business. Do you have anything outstanding to discuss from the last meeting?”
Whilst on the surface this may look like a friendly poker game between friends, it’s still a business meeting, and Jake always treats it as such. He may drink too much and not give a shit about the job, but he does, on occasion, try to be a good leader.
It’s actually a massive shame, as I think if he really did put the effort in, he’d probably be a better leader than I am. I’m ruthless and firm, whereas Jake actually cares—possibly too much—but it also makes him a great advocate for the people he rules over.
“All mine were sorted, I believe. What about you?” I reply.
“What happened with Barty?” he asks, his expression now much more guarded.
Barty is the leader of one of the gangs that works for me. He’s responsible for a large chunk of the drug income we have, but at the last meeting, Jake told me there had been complaints from some of his gangs that Barty was crossing the border.
When our families split Blackthorn in two, a territory line was drafted. The people who operate on the East side of town are ruled by me, and Jacob has the West. Everyone knows that you don’t cross the territory line, it’s a breach of the peace treaty. Anyone that’s found to be doing so has to be dealt with swiftly.
“I spoke to Barty straight away. He said it was a new pusher he’d brought on board who didn’t know the territory line well enough, and crossed it without realising. It’s been dealt with,” I explain, leaving out the part where Barty was punished for allowing such a mistake to occur.
Even if it was the new kid’s fault, the book stops with Barty, and he should have made sure his hires are given enough knowledge. I also made it clear I don’t allow anyone under the age of eighteen to work in the drugs game.
There’s too much risk of them either taking the product themselves, or pushing it to their friends. What they do when they become an adult is up to them, but we don’t sell drugs to kids in my town—a rule both me and Jake agree on.
Jake winces slightly as he deals our first hand. “I’m sorry to tell you, the situation has not been solved. I had four complaints over the last week, all saying the same thing. Barty is moving over into the Upper West side, and he’s threatened several members of UW40, the gang who currently deal in that area.”
“Fuck!” I growl, slamming my fist on the table. “I take it our first hand is for who handles him?”
Jake nods, a sadistic smile turning up the corner of his lip. This is the way our poker night always goes. When there’s an issue that we will disagree over how it’s handled, we play for it. If I win, I get to deal with Barty however I choose, but if Jake wins, he can sort it, and I have to accept his methods.
I’m not sure who Barty will want to win this hand. Jake looks murderous, and he will be playing for the right to defend his territory. Whereas, I’m playing for my pride.
Barty lied to me, and he directly went against my orders, which, as his leader, I can’t allow to stand. I need to make an example of him.
I always play to win, but some hands are more important than others. However, I can see the intense glare in my best friend’s eyes, and I’m a little startled that he wants to deal with this.
The round starts, and I flick a glance at my cards, keeping my face neutral as I see the King of Spades and Three of Clubs. I place the cards back down and assess Jake as he looks at his. As always, he gives nothing away.
“Are there any rules you want to lay down regarding the outcome of dealing with Barty?” I ask, as I throw some chips down to say I’m in the game.
Jake is quick to meet my bid, dealing three cards onto the centre of the table. I keep my gaze neutral as my heart races when each card’s turned over.
King of Clubs. Ace of Diamonds. Five of Hearts.
A pair isn’t a great hand, but it’s better than nothing for now, so I place my bet to let him know I’m still in. Jake assesses the cards for a moment, his gaze giving nothing away.
Is he taking his time to look unsure, to bluff that he’s got nothing, when he’s actually got a good hand?
“Whatever the outcome, I need his gang to know that they can never deal on the Upper West side again,” Jake states, before adding, “Do you have any stipulations?”
What he’s really asking is if he’s allowed to kill Barty if things go that far.
“As far as I’m concerned, Barty broke the rules, then he lied about it to my face, before breaking the rules again. He had his second chance and he blew it.
“I know he’s well connected, and I have no idea where his gang will stand at the end of it, but that’s something I can handle. If you kill him, that’s fine by me, as long as he’s aware that the punishment he’s receiving comes with my blessing. I don’t want his family blaming you and retaliating,” I state firmly.
This has always been a concern for us, whenever the other person wins the right to deal with someone on the rival side. But we made it clear in the beginning that any major action will be undertaken with the other’s blessing, unless we say otherwise.
Our teams know that if one of us were to ever make a move without the other’s consent, that would be a clear breach of the treaty, and we’d go to war. So we make sure that everyone knows that’s not happened.
Jake nods in understanding, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. “I’m not sure if we’ll kill him. It all depends on what he says in the interview. You can be there, if you’d like?”
I give him a small smile as I nod. “I think that’s a good idea…if you win, of course.”
Jake chuckles, throwing his chips in to call me. Another card flicks over, and it takes all my strength not to react when I see the Queen of Spades.
There’s the potential for a straight on the table, depending on what Jake’s initial cards were. But, given there’s a mix of all the suits, a flush is unlikely. It’ll all depend on the final card.
I throw my chips in, signalling for him to drop the last card, and he’s quick to meet my bid. My heart is racing while I wait for him to flip the card over.
Three of Hearts.
I have two pairs—Kings and Threes, which is a pretty decent hand.
Keeping my expression the same, I throw down double my usual bid, and I have to hold back a smile at the way Jake grimaces at the raise. He studies his cards again, like he’s hoping to see something that’s not there. Though I’m not naive enough to think he might be bluffing.
He doesn’t just meet my bet, he raises it again, and now I’m really worried. He’s either going hard on the bluff, or he has something. Either way, my hand isn’t a bad one, so I meet his bet. This time, he doesn’t raise, he calls it instead.
We both turn our cards over at the same time, and my heart sinks. We both have two pairs, but he’s got two Aces, whereas my highest are Kings. Jake whoops and laughs as he throws his arms into the air in celebration, as I grumble and swear to myself.
I take a big swig of my whiskey, allowing the burn to distract me from my loss. Jake begins to gloat, the way he always does when he wins, and he finishes the rest of his glass of whiskey before pouring us both another. He then finishes the beer bottle in front of him too .
As he gloats, a big smile on his face, I note the way his pupils are blown so wide they appear black, only a hint of chocolate around the edges. If he keeps winning, it won’t be long before he’s really pissed, and that’s exactly what I want.
I grab the cards from on the table after he’s scooped up his winning chips and begin shuffling them for the next round. “What are we playing for next?” I ask him.
We play a few more hands, dealing with small, almost trivial matters, and as per my plan, the more drunk Jake gets, the easier it is for me to take all his chips.
He’s only got a very small pile left, barely enough for this final hand, and that’s exactly what I had in mind. I kept this final matter for the end, knowing how hard Jake would go in to win.
“Right, I only have one more matter on my agenda, and since you’re done, this will be our last hand. I’ve tried to do this in a friendly way, but I think we’ve reached the stage where I need to make it official.
“Last week, you fucked another one of my dancers from Caged, despite knowing they’re off-limits to you. You didn’t call her back the next day, and when she saw you in the club with another girl, she created a scene. In fact, that doesn’t even come close to covering it. She punched the girl so hard she broke her nose. Security removed her, but it was still a scene that could have been avoided, had you stuck to the rules.
“So, for this final hand, I propose we play for the girls in the club. If you win, I won’t stop you from being with any of them, but if I win, you can’t touch anyone who works there without my permission. What do you say?”
A heavy silence fills the air, and his inebriated state means it’s easy to see the emotions that flicker across his face. Intrigue, annoyance, anger, and maybe even a little excitement.
He enjoys messing around with the girls when they’re off-limits, but he also knows there’ll come a point when I enforce the rules much stricter than I currently do. This is his best opportunity to retain a chance with the girls there.
“I’m in.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. He’s playing straight into my hands… Now I just need the cards to fall in the right way. I’m not going to cheat, but that doesn’t mean I can’t carefully manipulate the situation.
The game plays out exactly how I hoped. I have a better hand than I was expecting, but I don’t let on. In my hand I have the Four of Hearts, and the King of Hearts. On the table there’s the Ace of Hearts, Jack of Diamonds, Three of Hearts, and Four of Spades .
Not only do I have two pairs, there’s also the possibility of a flush, if the river card is a Heart. But even if that doesn’t come, I still have a pretty strong hand.
Since Jake’s pretty tipsy now, he’s barely hiding that he’s got a good hand. He’s raising the stakes quickly and aggressively, which, given the small amount of chips he has left, he’d only do if he was sure he had a good chance at winning.
Now it’s time for the next part of my plan. I raise the stakes higher than he has in chips, and he glares at me. “You know I don’t have enough chips to meet that bet,” he grumbles.
I shrug my shoulders, trying my hardest to look smug, enough to wind him up more. “Well, I guess, you’ll have to fold then.”
I make it sound like this is about me protecting the girls at the club, so he has no idea I have another motive. He glares at me, taking another sip of his whiskey, though I doubt that will help him come up with a solution.
“I’m not folding. I want to raise the bet,” he states, his gaze fixed on mine.
“Too bad you don’t have any chips,” I reply flippantly.
“Well, let me add in something else of value then,” he states, just as I expected him to.
“Look, let me be straight with you, Jake. You wanting to play so badly is a red flag for me. Of course, I’m going to use every chip I have to up the bid in an effort to stop you. You’d have to put something massive on the table to meet me.”
I keep my voice neutral, hoping he can’t hear the way my heart is racing. It’s pounding so loudly, I can almost hear the blood whooshing through my ears.
“You know how much I want free access to the girls at the club. What if I promise not to cause drama?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me like he stands a chance at charming me.
I roll my eyes at him, taking a small sip of my whiskey, just to let the tension build. “I expect you not to cause drama in my club anyway, so that’s not a bargaining chip. It’s gotta have high value. Something you’d normally never give me.”
He lets out a huff. “Fine, you name your price and we’ll go all in.”
“I don’t think you want to give me a blank cheque here, Jake. What if I choose something you would really hate to give up?”
He narrows his gaze at me, though I notice he has to blink a few times, no doubt to counteract whatever blurred vision the alcohol is giving him. I think he may have just realised I have a plan, and I wait for him to call me out on it.
The silence stretches on while Jake ponders my question, before finally saying, “Then I’ll have to make a choice, but I won’t know until you ask.”
I give him a tight smile, trying to hold back the grimace. Here goes nothing, I think to myself.
“I want Chloe.”
His eyes widen before his face darkens, and he balls the hand that’s been resting on the table into a fist. “What the fuck?” he yells.
I hold my hands up, trying to pacify him, as I explain further. “It’s not what you’re thinking. You know how much I fucking hate Scott Caprillo. He’s been a dick for years, and this is the perfect opportunity for me to mess with him.
“For my bid, I want to win your sister for sixty days. She will have to live with me and do as I say during that time.”
Jake leans forward, looking more confused than he was a moment ago. “So this isn’t about Chloe, it’s about Scott? It’s not some weird way to get me to give you permission to fuck my sister?”
I laugh loudly, caught off-guard by the abruptness of his comment. “No, this is to mess with Scott. I mean, your sister isn’t bad looking, so I wouldn’t say no to fucking her, but that’s not what this is about.”
His eyes darken at my mention of fucking her, and I hate how poisonous the lie feels on my tongue. His sister is fucking gorgeous, and I want nothing more than to claim her and make her mine, but that’s never going to fucking happen, so this is the best I can come up with.
“But she’s supposed to get married in six weeks,” Jake adds, almost as an afterthought.
“If I win, she’ll have to delay her impending nuptials. Yet another bonus in my plan to piss off Scott.”
Jake lets out a long sigh. “Everyone in my family is going to be so fucked off with me, but I’m in.”
“What?” The word tumbles out before I can stop it, shock hitting me when I hear him agree to the deal. I thought I’d have to negotiate a lot more to try and convince him.
“Honestly, I hate the idea of Chloe marrying that arsehole. If you win her for two months, it gives me extra time to come up with a plan to get her out of the marriage. She’ll be pissed at me for using her as a bet, but she’ll be even more of an arse with you for suggesting it,” he says with a laugh. “But anyway, none of this will matter if I win.”
He sounds confident, and I have to admit, I’m a little nervous. My plan only goes as far as getting him to agree to the bet, after that, I have to let the cards fall where they may. I just really fucking hope I’m holding the winning hand.
“So, to confirm, this is the bet… If you win, you are allowed to date or fuck any of the people employed at Caged, with no restrictions. But you do still have to be mindful that it’s my business, and you need to minimise the amount of trouble you cause.
“If I win, I get full access to your sister for sixty days. Chloe will move in with me, and she’ll be expected to do whatever I say. Do we have a deal?”
Jake pauses for a minute, taking in the deal one final time. His gaze is locked on mine, and my heart races. I keep mentally reminding myself to fucking breathe.
“Just one more thing to add… Whilst Chloe has to do everything you say, it doesn’t include anything sexual,” he states firmly.
I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t need to force women into bed with me, Jake. I would never make her do anything like that. But if she chooses to, that’s something else all together.”
“You are not fucking my sister,” he grinds out, slamming his fist on the table.
“I’m not saying I will, but I’m also not saying I won’t. You never know what will happen over the sixty days. Besides, wondering what I may or may not do to Chloe will be part of the torture for Scott,” I add on, hoping he buys my excuse.
Jake’s never going to give me permission to fuck his sister, but I don’t want him to say it can never happen either. I’d never betray my friend, but staying away from Chloe for sixty days, while she’s living in my house, will be virtually impossible.
“Fine. If full consent is given by her, then that’s okay. Though I would prefer it if you didn’t go near her,” he grumbles.
“You can always back out of the bet,” I remind him, his eyes darken as he glares at me.
“You’ve got a deal. Draw the last card.”
Silence fills the room as we both wait for me to flip over the last card. Jake is leaning over the table, peering at the card as I turn it face up.
The river card is the Six of Hearts.
My heart stops, and I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Somehow, I manage to keep my expression neutral, crossing my fingers that I have enough to win.
Jake doesn’t hide his excitement, he lets out a loud, “Yes!”
He maintains eye contact with me as he slowly turns over the two cards in front of him, my heart racing a million miles a minute as I wait to see if I’ve won.
He turns over the Jack of Spades and the Jack of Clubs—giving him three of a kind. I can see why he looks so smug. Under most circumstances, it’s not a bad hand .
Without breaking the eye contact he started, I turn over the cards in front of me, one at a time. First the Four of Hearts, and then the King of Hearts. I place them alongside the Ace, Three, and Six of Hearts that are already on the table, making a flush. “I win.”
Jake’s gaze flicks down to the cards, and then back up at me, taking in the way my lip lifts into a smirk. I want to fucking grin and cheer, but I hold back, saving the celebration for later.
The gravity of the situation quickly hits Jake, and his face falls. His eyes widen and he turns pale. “My father is going to kill me. Chloe is going to kill me.”
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell them tonight. I’ll come to the main house in the morning.” I try to keep my voice casual, but there’s a hint of excitement that I just can’t hide.
“Fuck! Can’t we play again? We can bet on something else?” he asks desperately, but I shake my head.
“Nope. This was the final game. All matters have been dealt with, the way it always is. You know the rules, Jake.”
“But this is going too far.” His voice takes on a high-pitched desperate edge, and I almost feel sorry for him. I do feel a bit of guilt at the way I manipulated him into this, but if my plan works, he’ll benefit from it in the end.
“Sorry, Jake. You know the rules. Once the game is over, the deals are final. I can be there when you tell your family though, if that helps.”
He nods his head, taking a big gulp and downing the last of his whiskey, like that wasn’t partly responsible for the mess he now finds himself in.
“Fine, I’ll call a family meeting for lunchtime tomorrow. We can tell them then,” Jake says with a huff.
“You should get some sleep and sober up before then. I’m guessing going into the meeting high as a kite or pissed will only make things worse for you,” I suggest, giving him some advice that I really hope he takes.
As we both stand and I head towards the door, Jake lets out a humourless laugh. “The only good thing about this is that I’ll get to watch Chloe murder you when she finds out you used her in a bet.”
My stomach drops as I imagine how angry she’ll be. She may have wanted my help, but I’m almost certain this isn’t the way she wanted me to do it.
Though, no matter how angry she is with me, I’m going to enjoy reminding her that she belongs to me. It may only be for sixty days right now, but if things go to plan, I’ll make her mine forever.