Chapter 18
18
TWO WEEKS LATER
COEN
I watch the casino floor on the hundreds of monitors covering the entire wall in front of us. All the happy players as they win and the not-so-happy ones when they lose.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Nothing I don’t see every single day when I come to work.
Still, the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, my knee bouncing incessantly, a nervous energy I can’t shake coursing through me. “I don’t like this. Something feels off.”
Gabe turns his head toward me, raising a sandy-blond brow from where he stands beside me with his arms crossed over his chest, examining the monitors with his well-trained eye. “How so?”
It looks like a normal day.
There hasn’t been a single issue since I arrived three hours ago.
And we’ve spent weeks planning for today.
But it isn’t normal.
Pretending that it is will only cause us to let down our guards when we need to be on full alert to avoid imminent disaster.
It’s the biggest day for Hawke Hotel since the grand opening, one that will help establish our position as one of the premier locations to stay and play.
I keep scanning, keep searching for that one thing that would warrant this feeling I’ve had in the pit of my stomach all morning. “I don’t know. Just a feeling.”
Gabe nods slowly, narrowing his eyes as if he might be able to ascertain what has me rattled just by looking at me himself. “Well, as a Ranger, I learned to trust my gut because it was very seldom wrong.”
“That isn’t very reassuring.”
He offers a shrug. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”
That’s one thing I’ve always greatly appreciated about Uncle Gabe. The man doesn’t beat around the bush about anything. He doesn’t pull punches. He will tell it exactly like it is, even if it leaves others uncomfortable.
But his warning to trust my gut sits heavy in it.
Something is wrong.
I’m not seeing it yet, but it’s there.
I let my gaze drop to the screen showing the high-stakes poker room where we’re about to host our first tournament, one we arranged to bring in some of the biggest players in the world. “I just don’t believe that Satriano isn’t going to make some sort of move soon. And today would be the perfect day to do it.”
He’s been radio silent in the weeks since Vegas, but we all learned a long time ago that just because we don’t hear from him doesn’t mean he’s not up to something behind the scenes that’s going to get all of us into a position we don’t want to be in.
Especially me, since I’m his new toy.
And he’s already proven how much he loves to fuck with me.
Gabe follows my line of sight to that particular screen. “I agree with that logic, but we’ve got everyone watching for anything even remotely suspicious. Saint and Bishop are out on the floor on top of our regular security and the extras we brought in. If he’s dumb enough to do something today, we’ll stop him.”
I grind my teeth together, wishing I could so easily believe in the infallibility of our careful planning. “I hope you’re right.”
My voice doesn’t hold any confidence because I have none.
Not after Allegra’s confession.
It has rattled me more than I care to admit or even acknowledge to myself. And for the two weeks since Vegas, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what else I missed when I was so blinded by her.
Did I say something I shouldn’t have to her about our operations?
Did I reveal something about the family that could put us in more danger?
I can’t help thinking it’s a distinct possibility that I did.
Because I didn’t just let down my guard with Allegra, I completely obliterated it.
And it never even crossed my mind that she might have been a plant, that I was supposed to fall for her for that very reason.
Maybe it has just put me on edge.
“Maybe I’m overreacting…”
Gabe glances at me. “I don’t think you’re overreacting, Coen. I don’t think anyone can overreact when it comes to Satriano.”
If I had been more cautious, nothing ever would have happened with Allegra. I would have recognized that it was about more than a card game for her, more than just about winning. She was working a job for the man I hate most in this world.
And I fucking missed it.
I absently rub at my still-sore ribs, almost wishing the pain was still fresh, a reminder to always keep my wits, to pay attention to everyone’s motives, to remember that anyone can stab you in the back.
Especially with a man like Satriano pulling the strings.
“You really can’t just take that fucker out?”
Gabe snorts and smacks me on the shoulder. “Believe me, if that were an option, we would’ve done it a long time ago. But you know if we tried it, his entire organization would come for us. He already has things in place. If something were to happen to him, it could make things even worse.”
“Worse than this, being at his beck and call?”
It’s almost like he’s being intentionally absent. Building to something. The way things get eerily still before a major storm slams the coast.
“We’ll be ready. Don’t worry.”
“Ready for what?” Savage comes up behind us.
I was so engrossed in my conversation with Gabe and watching the screens for any signs of trouble that I didn’t even hear him enter the monitoring room.
Gabe sighs. “Anything Satriano might try.”
Savage nods and scans the monitors as my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I slide it out and tense at “unknown” flashing across the screen. “Just a second. I need to take this.”
And not in front of them.
For weeks, I’ve dreaded every text, every phone call. I’ve dreaded stepping into my own damn condo, afraid that man will be waiting for me again, despite insistence from the entire security team that it is locked down tight. But right now, I’m more worried it might be her on the other end of the line.
Satriano…I can handle.
My complicated feelings for Allegra are another matter entirely.
Gabe and Savage start talking, pointing to something on one of the screens, ignoring me as I step out into the hall and force myself to accept the call.
“Hello?”
“Coen…” Just the sound of his voice is enough to make my skin crawl. “I hope you’re well.”
Only because if I weren’t, I wouldn’t be of any use to him anymore.
I’m not at all surprised he’s calling today. It justifies this unease. “What do you want?”
“The time has come, Coen.”
My blood runs cold. “For what?”
“For you to do me another favor.”
Shit.
Even though I anticipated it, knew it was coming and that I wouldn’t like it, it doesn’t mean I’m ready for it. Every fiber of my being wants to rebel, wants to tell the man to fuck right off and do his own dirty work.
But then my mind drifts to Atlas and Wren, to the rest of the family, and I can’t bring myself to say those words.
“What do you want me to do?”
I can almost hear his satisfied grin.
“I have someone who’s going to come and play in your tournament today.”
My body tenses immediately.
Allegra?
The ache in my ribs intensifies as my heart gallops and my breathing stalls. “Who?”
For a few seconds, I don’t think he’s going to answer, almost like he’s dragging it out intentionally, torturing me with the fact that it might be her.
Does he know her cover is blown? Does he know she came clean?
“The man’s name is Alan. And you are going to ensure he wins.”
And there it is.
What I knew was coming.
His first step in weaseling his way into Hawke Hotel, either to take it over or to take it down completely. “You want me to rig the game?”
“I hear the purse is quite large, almost four million. You can’t expect me to walk away from that when I have an inside man.”
Anger heats my blood as I pace farther away from the surveillance room’s sliding glass doors. “You can’t expect me to be able to rig a tournament with an hour’s notice in your favor, either, nor can you expect me to do it in a casino my goddamn family owns.”
“For now.”
“Excuse me?”
“They own it for now . Any number of things could happen in the future that could take that establishment out of your hands.”
It isn’t even a veiled threat.
It’s a statement of intention.
“That’s your ultimate goal, isn’t it? To take the hotel from us.”
“Believe me, Coen, partnering with you and having the resources and strength of Hawke Enterprises and the family behind me would be far more beneficial, not to mention easier. But you’ve repeatedly told me, as have your uncles, your father, and your quite-animated brother, that it would happen over their dead bodies, which doesn’t leave me much choice, does it?”
Fuck.
I scrub my hand over my face and glance up and down the hall to ensure no one’s within ear range. From here, I can still see Savage and Gabe talking with one of the security personnel, likely going over the last-minute plans for the tournament before the players start arriving in the room.
“Go to the front desk and pick up the package that was left there for you. It contains a marked deck.”
“You can’t be serious. You don’t think anyone will notice?”
“They won’t. My player knows what to look for. No one else will notice the discrepancies on the backs of the cards.”
“You haven’t met my fucking family.”
He chuckles low. “This is what you agreed to, Coen. I don’t want you to have to suffer the consequences of trying to deny me. So, let’s not argue about this.”
Shit.
I don’t have any choice, and he knows it. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
“That isn’t good enough. Make it happen.”
He doesn’t say “or else” before he ends the call, but he might as well have.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The man knows exactly what he’s doing, wedging his foot in by asking me to do something like this when he really wants more. Next, he’ll ask me to start skimming, and eventually, he’ll figure out a way to take over the hotel entirely.
This isn’t good.
This is really, really fucking bad.
I slip back into the monitoring room, and Gabe and Savage both glance over at me as I approach them.
Savage immediately notices my shift in mood. “Everything all right?”
For the briefest split second, I consider not telling them about the call, but they’re too observant, too smart, far too fucking intelligent not to notice if I swap out the fucking deck. “We need to have a talk, privately.”
I scan the security personnel seated at the various consoles and incline my head toward the hallway.
They know what I’m about to say, or at least suspect it, without me even uttering the words.
Gabe issues a low curse. “Does this have to do with our friend?”
I grit my jaw and nod. “And I was right about today. He’s made a demand of me that I’m not sure I can ignore.”
“Sir?” One of the security personnel turns back toward us and motions me over. “You gave us this photo, asked us to keep an eye out for her.” He flashes me the picture of Allegra we handed out to everyone, and my blood runs cold again. He points to the screen and taps the main casino floor. “She just walked in.”
Fuck.
I turn from the counter and stalk toward the doors, Gabe and Savage on my heels. “We’re going to have to talk as we go. We don’t have much time.”
Gabe steps through the sliding doors first, then looks back at me. “Before what?”
“Before it all goes to shit.”
* * *
ALLEGRA
Maybe this was a bad idea.
The moment I made the decision to get on that plane and come to New Orleans, I started second-guessing my sanity. It only got worse on the ride here. And now that I stand in the middle of the Hawke Hotel casino, the nagging feeling that this is going to backfire—badly—is suddenly even stronger.
I scan the casino, searching for that familiar mop of thick, dark hair that I spent so many hours running my fingers through and tugging on while he was fucking me or had his head buried between my legs.
They itch to do that even now. My body refusing to accept what my brain already knows—that he’s gone forever—no matter how badly I may want to make things right.
Today is one step toward that, though I don’t expect it to make a dent in what I owe Coen Hawke. At least, I know I’m finally doing the right thing. For the first time in a long time, I feel good about that.
I meander slowly down the main walkway of the casino, looking for Coen, but I also know that he’ll be looking for me.
Without a shadow of a doubt, they have me on a list and have alerted everyone to be on the lookout for me today—of all days.
It’s only a matter of time before he or someone else spots me and tries to throw me out on my ass.
If he had done that all those weeks ago when I came, things would have been so different. I wouldn’t have ever had Coen Hawke, known what absolute pleasure feels like, but I wouldn’t have broken his heart and my own in the process.
I’ve been both living for and haunted by those moments of happiness he showed me, but I’d give them all up to go back and prevent this tidal wave of pain from crashing down on him.
He doesn’t deserve any of it.
A door opens along one of the walls to my left, a bank of slot machines separating me from it.
Coen steps out, his uncles, Gabe and Savage, with him, and his hard, flinty eyes find mine almost immediately.
He was definitely looking for me.
And this was definitely a mistake.
He made it very clear he doesn’t want to see me again, that if I tried, there would be consequences to pay. I’ll pay them, starting with the way my heart seizes in my chest just seeing him.
The hatred that simmers in his gaze brings tears to mine.
I knew what to expect after seeing it that morning in Vegas, but the past two weeks have apparently diminished it somehow in my mind.
This is going to hurt.
Coen stalks toward me through the crowd, jaw set hard, shoulders tense, perfectly tailored suit moving over that hard, muscled body I know so well.
I stand in place, waiting for him.
Showing him I’m not afraid and I’m not going to run.
I can’t.
Not until I tell him what I came here to do.
When he finally stops a few feet from me, the tension and animosity filling the space between us overpowers the din of the casino and makes everything else disappear.
No loud machines.
No louder gamblers.
It’s only the two of us.
“I told you I never wanted to see you again, Allegra. What the fuck are you doing here?”
Gabe and Savage stop on either side of him, waiting to hear my response.
Either they know exactly what happened between Coen and me, or at least they think they do. But even he doesn’t truly understand it or how complicated things got.
He couldn’t when he wouldn’t let me fully explain.
“I came to warn you about what Satriano is going to do.”
He raises a dark brow and glances between his uncles. “Why would you do that?”
I swallow thickly and step closer. “Can we go somewhere more private?”
If anyone overhears this, it could be very bad for the Hawkes and this place.
He shakes his head. “If you think I’m going to be in a room alone with you, Allegra, you’re fucking nuts.”
Shit, I guess we’re doing this here, and with an audience.
Gabe and Savage keep keen eyes on the people moving around us, ensuring no one is paying attention to our conversation.
I guess there’s nothing left to do but give Coen the warning I came here to relay. “He is going to ask you?—”
Coen holds up a hand. “He already has.”
Shit.
As soon as I knew what Satriano was planning, my first inclination was to call and warn Coen. But I knew he wouldn’t take my calls. None of the Hawkes would. And even if I managed to leave a message, as soon as he heard my voice, he would have deleted it.
This could only come from me in person.
But maybe I’m too late.
“And what did you tell him?” I glance at the two men on either side of him, who don’t seem surprised by the conversation, so he really must have told them everything. “Did you agree?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
“Don’t do it.”
I step forward and wrap my hand around his wrist. That same crackle of electricity that seems to pass between us every time we touch jolts through me, and he flinches as if he felt it, too.
His eyes slowly lower to my hand. “I don’t think you have any say in this, Allegra.”
I plead with him with my eyes the best that I can. “There are things you don’t know, that you don’t understand. I can help .”
His brows fly up. “ You help us ?”
He barks out a laugh that gets swallowed by the noise around us. Gabe and Savage keep scanning to ensure no one’s overhearing, but people are too busy drinking, playing, and enjoying themselves.
“Let me play.”
His mouth gapes. “What?”
All eyes are back on me.
“Let me play in the tournament.” I tighten my grip on him, trying to emphasize my point. “I know how he operates. I know the deck. I can beat the man he sent.”
Coen glares at me, unmoved by my offer. “I’m surprised he didn’t send you in the first place.”
“I told him I wouldn’t do it.”
One dark brow rises. “Yet, you’re here.”
“Hell, I’m not here for him, Coen. You really don’t understand that, do you?”
A flicker of something passes through his eyes.
Disbelief.
Hope.
I’m not sure which.
Savage moves closer to us. “So, you want to play against the man sent here by Satriano to win this tournament? I am not seeing how that would be any different. He still wins either way and has gotten us to compromise our casino.”
I swallow the bile rising in my throat at what I’m about to say, what I’m about to do, and what it could cost me. “No, he won’t win because I’m done working for him.”
As soon as I say the words, I know it’s the right thing to do.
I’ve been agonizing about it for weeks, going over every single moment I spent both with Coen and his family. And I realized one very important thing—I can’t do it.
I can’t watch a man like Satriano destroy these people.
Not when there’s anything I can do to protect them.
They’re not bad.
They’re loving. They’re ambitious. They’re brutal at times. They’re many things, but they’re not bad people, and his hatred of them, whether warranted or not, shouldn’t result in the type of things he’s been planning for them.
“This is just the first step in a massive plan, Coen. You can’t let him take it.”
His eyes narrow. “That’s almost exactly what I said to Gabe earlier.”
Gabe gives me a tight nod.
Coen looks at him and then at Savage.
The man who sits at the head of Hawke Enterprises, who runs a multi-billion-dollar empire, offers his nephew a nod. “Your decision. You know her and him better than anyone else does.”
“And how fucked up is that?” He tugs out of my grip and stares me down. “I want to make one thing very fucking clear, Allegra. If you do this, if this happens, if we let you play, it has nothing to do with us .” He motions between us. “I don’t care if you win or lose. As soon as you’re done, you fucking leave, and I never want to see your face again.”
I wince.
“This is about my family, our business, not about this sham of a relationship or whatever the fuck it was supposed to be that you created, got it?”
I clench my teeth to force myself to bite back the argument I want to make. The objection to how he classified what happened between us. Because it’s all wrong. He has it all so, so unbearably wrong.
But this isn’t the time or place to argue about it.
He’s made how he feels very clear, and nothing I can say is going to change his mind, certainly not in the next hour—tops—that we have before the first cards are dealt.
All I can do is nod my understanding, even if I didn’t agree with a single word he said.
He scowls, then shoves a hand through his hair. “Let’s set this plan in motion if we’re going to do this.”
“Please, Coen, trust me. I realize how hollow those words must sound right now, but please.”
His shoulders finally give slightly, and he steps closer until his chest brushes mine. That familiar warmth instantly permeates my skin.
And damn, do I miss him.
The feel of his hard, strong body against me. His scent wrapping around me and invading every breath I take.
My body aches for him.
I want it all back, but I know I’ve lost him.
I’ve blown my chance of ever being with Coen Hawke in the way I truly want to, free of ulterior motives and lies, but I can at least do this for him. I can give him a potential way out.
“Fine”—his voice rumbles low—“but if you betray me again, there will be a price to pay that you aren’t going to like.”
I have no doubt that he’ll follow through on that, and it won’t be the same kind of torture and attention he paid to me in bed. “I understand.”
He glances at his uncles. “We’ll let her play.”
“We don’t have much time.” I glance at my watch to confirm. “I’ll walk you through the deck.”
He gives me a sharp nod, then grabs my elbow and starts to lead me off the casino floor toward the hotel lobby, no doubt to grab the deck Satriano would have had to send for them to use.
His lips brush the back of my ear as we walk. Those callouses skate over my skin, and my steps falter. “Do you remember what I told you that night in that booth in Macau?”
How could I possibly ever forget?
He said a lot of things that night, but there’s only one he could possibly be referring to.
I nod. “Nobody fucks with the Hawkes.”
“Remember that today. Anytime you say anything. Every move you make at that table. Hell, every fucking thought you have, you remember that.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and for the first time since I met him, I actually fear Coen Hawke and what he might be capable of.