Page 11 of Casino King

Yanking the knife out of his leg, he screams again, a little weaker this time due to the blood seeping out of him, and I hold the knife to his exposed throat.

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s crying.

“No one touches my woman without dying,” I tell him, slicing the knife clean across his throat. Blood spurts out from the cut and I push him to floor as his tries to cover the open wound, but it’s useless.

I wipe the knife off on his pants and wrap it in my handkerchief, putting it back in my pocket to clean thoroughly later. Removing the leather gloves, I leave them on the chair for Gino to use when he takes care of the mess, and grab my jacket.

I step around the blood pool forming and leave the room, turning to Gino by the door. “Clean it up.”

“Yes, sir.” He nods, and I walk back out the way I came, feeling better than I did when Enzo first called me.

The way everyone was looking at me in the meeting after he called… Leo especially, gave me a look that said it all – be careful.

He had someone once, years ago. He never told anyone, and he never brought her around, but we all knew. He’d disappear most nights and he’d never pick up women when we went out. But when he took our father’s place, that was the end of whatever they had together. He stopped disappearing for chunks of time and became the hardened, ruthless man that I know today.

He doesn’t talk about it, and I would never ask. Feelings aren’t something we ever share in my family. Feelings make you vulnerable. Feelings get you killed.

All the men in our family know the consequences of having a woman in their lives. Especially a woman not from our world who doesn’t know the score of what they’d be getting into when they’re with one of us.

My mother was never in love with my father. I don’t know if my aunts and uncles were ever in love either. Marriage to us is a convenience, a business transaction, a means to an end. I’m sure they were fond of each other in some way or another, even friends. But a real relationship? Not even close.

The only two people I ever saw in my world who truly cared about one another were my grandparents. They were an anomaly, though. Where my grandfather was hard, my nonna was soft. Where he was tough, she was forgiving. And where he was ruthless, she was caring. They were opposites from both ends of the spectrum, but they worked. The only time I ever saw that man smile was with her, and that was when he thought no one else was around.

My nonna taught all of her children and grandchildren how to respect the attributes of a woman. She taught us what one can offer a hardened man with no redeeming qualities other than his loyalty and devotion to his family name. A man like me. She showed us there is a possibility for truth and love, which is why I always preferred being at my grandparent’s house over mine.

But that was quickly taken from them when my nonna got cancer and my grandfather had to watch her die right in front of his eyes each day, with no power to change the outcome.

That was when we all saw what love can do to a man. He was destroyed. Without her, he was nothing more than a shell of himself, and it drove him to an early grave right along with her with a heart attack.

I never wanted that for myself.

Chapter 4

Tessa

“Are you hungry?” Enzo asks from somewhere behind me. I haven’t moved from my spot on the couch since I arrived almost four hours ago, and I’ve just been staring at the unlit fireplace in front of me for the past hour.

My mystery man is sexier than I could have ever imagined. And now that I’ve seen him up close, and looked into his dark eyes, I realize nothing I could have come up with in my head would have done him justice.

He’s dark. He’s dangerous. I saw it in his eyes, his walk, his posture, and his entire aura and demeanor. But there’s something else there. Something I can’t help but be drawn to while still remaining just the slightest bit afraid of him.

I need to know his secrets, what makes him tick, why he comes to watch me every week, why he leaves me lavish gifts without ever having met me, and why he’s had someone following me.

“Tessa?”

Blinking out of my thoughts, I look up at a concerned Enzo, and remember that he asked me a question.

“Yes?”

“I asked if you were hungry.”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. I know I was when I left The Aces after the show, but my stomach turned to lead the moment I thought my life was going to be left in the hands of that asshole.

“I can make you something. Toast? Soup? Or do you need a strong drink?” he offers, and I give him a small smile.

“A drink, I think.”

Nodding, he walks over to the dry bar in the corner of the room against the wall of windows and pours me a hefty glass of amber liquid from a crystal decanter.

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