Chapter 12 #2
“And you passed, sweetheart,” she finishes.
Without another word, Cordelia focuses on the first round that’s getting underway. I do the same, knowing that all the steps we took actually worked.
Ace and Cara Weston are in as long as Grant can pass the final test and win this tournament.
The dealer starts the first round, and I focus on Grant. The way his demeanor completely changes when he’s in the game is alarming. It shouldn’t be, but all of this makes me wonder how much more there is to Grant Sinclair.
I want all his secrets for my own.
There are ten players at the table with a minimum buy-in of a thousand dollars for this first round. I can’t imagine where we’ll go from here.
As I scan the other players, I notice they are all wearing glasses or some type of facial coverings to try and hide their expressions.
I pause at one person who is wearing a black ball cap and no glasses—our neighbor Fred, whom we met at the barbecue. I chew on my lower lip, trying to remember his file.
Fred Jones. Single. No children. Living out in the suburbs of North Carolina. He’s involved somehow with all of this; I’m just not sure how yet.
Maybe if Grant wins, we’ll find out more of the intimate details of everyone’s roles.
He glances up at me and then focuses back on his cards.
What is a single man doing living in the middle of the suburbs like this? I’m not saying someone like him can’t, but given the neighborhood and the fact he’s here tonight, it just feels suspicious. Now that I think of it, Grant and I haven’t dived too far into his background outside of the norm.
Maybe we should if he’s one of the ten at the table.
“Here you go,” Noelle whispers as she hands me a glass of champagne.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
She stands next to me so that I’m now wedged between her and Cordelia, who is flanked by her personal bodyguards.
One by one, players are being eliminated, and apparently, they aren’t allowed to buy back in. Once you’re out, you’re out.
Remaining at the table are Grant, Fred, and two people I have yet to formally meet—a woman named Taby and a man called Rick.
Taby looks at me intensely as the next round of cards is dealt.
I have seen Taby around in the neighborhood, but nothing out of the norm. She must be involved in this somehow too. Grant and I have to investigate our neighbors further.
Another round takes place, and Fred is eliminated.
The anger spiraling behind his eyes is off-putting and makes me question what exactly he had riding on this tournament outside of the winning pot.
Looking over at Cordelia, I see a twitch in her jaw. Perhaps he was being tested too.
Thinking back, Fred Jones moved into the neighborhood not long before Grant and I did.
Months maybe. It’s not like everyone who lives in the neighborhood is part of this ring.
Some people are truly innocent, yet I have a feeling Fred isn’t.
He must be like us, trying to get involved for some reason.
His file didn’t bring back any known arrests. He’s white collar, running several interconnected businesses. Maybe he’s trying to use the Carolinas mafia to get a piece of the pie.
The rounds continue until it’s finally just Grant and Taby left in the tournament. A sly grin stretches across Taby’s face as soon as she gets her cards. I wish I could see Grant’s expression better.
The tension in the air is thick, and it feels as though this round is taking hours instead of mere minutes.
Noelle places a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I realize that I’ve been frozen in place, methodically watching each move. Cordelia shifts her weight, and I realize that she’s more invested than I am in seeing who wins.
Other card games are happening after this, but something tells me the poker tournament is the one to watch.
Grant raises Taby and places what could be the final bet.
Taby eyes her cards carefully, and for the first time all night, I sense uncertainty there.
Sucking in a deep breath of air, I wait, like everyone around me, to see what her move will be. Is this woman going to be the one to stop Grant?
Taby smiles widely and lays out her cards. Grant follows suit, and I slowly see a winning hand flash before me.
He did it. Grant beat Taby and won the poker tournament.
Cordelia starts to clap next to me, and soon, sounds erupt from around the room. Grant and Taby get up from their seats and shake hands. She says something to him, and he gives her a small nod before pulling away.
Grant’s eyes search the audience until they land on mine.
He flashes me a breathtaking smile, one that makes my skin prick with goose bumps.
This man of mine won. We’re in. After tonight, it should be smooth sailing, and I can finally make the real move I’ve been wanting to make on my husband.
Grant steps through the crowd of well-wishers until he finally reaches me.
“What do you think, Mrs. Weston?”
I wrap my arms around his neck and stare up at him.
“You did good, Mr. Weston.”
I bite down on my lip in indecision.
“Cara,” he whispers as he lowers his head and rests his forehead on mine.
“Hmm?”
“We shouldn’t.”
“We should.”
“I’m too old for you.”
“You’re perfect.”
“I’m too set in my ways.”
“I don’t care.”
“What about your dad?”
“He loves you.”
“What about everything else?”
“We’ll talk about it.”
Our breaths grow shallow, and I know what I want him to do.
“Fuck it.”
I grin.
“Can I kiss you?” he rasps.
“Yes.”
Grant pulls back, and we’re once again staring at each other with something ablaze in our eyes.
This is it—it’s real. He feels it, too, no matter how wrong or right it might be.
He bends down and places a kiss on my lips. It’s warm and soft, everything I remembered it to be. I try to deepen it, and a stifled groan comes out of Grant’s mouth.
I nibble on his lower lip before requesting access to go deeper.
“Fuck,” he murmurs.
Next thing I know, his hand is on the back of my head, gripping a pile of my hair tightly as he kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. My body is on fire from just this kiss, and I know that he’s everything I want and more.
Out of breath, he pulls back and rests his slightly damp forehead against mine. Our breaths are ragged as we both process what just transpired between us.
“That was…” I whisper.
“Everything.”
We stay in this position until the clack of loud heels approaches. We break apart, but Grant keeps one hand on my waist as he pulls me into his side.
Cordelia and Taby.
“Well, that was something else,” Cordelia says.
“The kiss or the way the man played?” Taby asks slyly.
I pretend to blush into Grant’s shoulder like any ordinary wife would. Instead, I’m consumed by an unfamiliar possessiveness, and it takes everything inside me to remember that I’m a professional and our plans are working.
I can’t tell if Taby is interested in Grant for something other than cards. Jealousy comes through, and I have to smile to prevent saying something I’ll regret and ruin what advancements we’ve made.
“Thank you,” he answers.
“Sit out the next rounds. Wait in that room,” Taby starts as she gestures to a guarded door behind where they are.
“And we’ll be in when this ends.”
“What’s in there?” Grant asks.
“Your future,” Taby answers.
My eyes flash to Cordelia’s, and I realize that we got it all wrong.
Cordelia isn’t the Kingpin—it’s Taby.