Page 11 of Savage Mafia King

She shakes her head. "Never."

"I think you'd be good at it."

She turns to me, an eyebrow cocked. "Why do you say that?"

"Good game face. That's the main thing you need to pull this off."

She smirks slightly. "Then yeah. I'd be great at this."

I like her attitude, like she knows she could take on anyone in this room and win. It's something I see a lot of in myself, and I guess she has well and truly proved that she's right, given all the success she has seen in the sorority.

I keep her close to me as the game plays out, a tense and close match, with more money on the table than most people in this city make in a year. It seems as though everyone in the room is holding their breath until the final hand is played and the international player lands his final triumphant blow.

"Fuck it!"

His opponent springs to his feet and storms away from the table. The crowd parts to let him through, seeming to sense that there's no point in stopping him. I chuckle. I can imagine I'd be in the same mood if I had just lost a stack of cash in front of a crowd of people.

People start to drift off to get drinks before the next game starts, and with Isabella still pinned to my side, I head over to check on our takings. One of the staff is looking over a lockbox, her brow furrowed as she goes through some of the notes within.

"What's wrong?" I ask her, lowering my voice slightly so I don't attract any attention.

"Looks like we're short on some money," she remarks, shaking her head and furrowing her brow. "I don't know why. I got everyone to pay up at the door, but there's something not right here."

"In what way? How much money are we short?" I press for answers.

She shakes her head again. "I don't know. I need to count again. I might have made a mistake..."

"Check again," I order her. "And let me know if it doesn't add up. If someone is stealing from us, we need to know."

Anger courses through my system. I hate the thought of someone fucking us over in that way, someone who has access to the money, trying to take from us. How fucking stupid would they have to be? They know what I do to traitors.

"What's going on?" Isabella speaks to me, pulling me back into the moment.

"Nothing." I'm harsher with her than I intended to be.

She draws back from me, clearly annoyed. "Hey, you don't get to speak to me like that—"

"Like what?" I reply, rounding on her. I know I should be doing a better job containing my irritation, but the truth is that she was an enemy until very recently. It's difficult for me to forget that.

Her face darkens. She takes a step back from me. I let out a low growl, irritated at the scene she's making.

"We're supposed to be putting up a united front here," I remind her. "Don't move away from me. Come here—"

"No, not until you apologize."

She crosses her arms over her chest. There it is, that sharp tongue, that snooty attitude—the reasons I've kept my distance from her all this time, despite how beautiful she is.

I roll my eyes skyward and then grab her arm and pull her into a darkened corner of the room.

"Where are you—"

I pin her against the wall before she can get another word out. The second game is going to start soon, but I'm not going to it until I'm damn sure I've made my point to her, once and for all.

"You don't speak to me the way you just did unless you want trouble," I warn her. "You understand?"

She struggles but doesn't break free from me. "I-I just wanted to help," she blurts out. "They said you lost money, right? Is something going on? Is there someone here working against you?"

"You seem to know a lot about it," I reply, narrowing my eyes, pushing my face close to hers. "Is it you, huh? Are you the one who's been doing this?"