Page 62 of Coerced Queen

“If I win, you write off my debt and pay me an amount equal to my loan in cash.”

He laughs.“That’s a hefty prize.”He asks with obvious curiosity, “And if I win, what do I get?”

I swallow, trying to sound self-assured and not scared out of my wits.“After Dark.”

A moment of silence follows.When he speaks again, all traces of humor are gone from his tone.“After Dark belongs to your husband.”

“It belongs tous.We’re married in community of property, and I’m running the club now, not Saverio.”

He’s quiet for another second.

“As you must be aware,” I say, “all the shares transferred to us after Luigi Bianchi’s death.”

“Yes,” he drawls.“I’m aware.”

“The club has good potential.If you’d like to see the last five years’ profit?—”

“I know what After Dark is worth.”

Holding my breath, I ask, “Do we have a deal then?”

“Do you play regularly, Mrs.De Luca?”

“No,” I say honestly.“This will be my first game.”

He chuckles.“You’re a brave woman.I admire that.”He exhales slowly.“You make a very attractive proposition.Just know this, I’m not a man who lets people go back on their word.Once I accept, you don’t get to change your mind.”

“I won’t,” I say, smiling in the hope that he can hear it.

“You’ve got yourself a bet, Mrs.De Luca.”Smooth like an eel and seductive like a seasoned Casanova, he says, “I’ll send you the date and time.”

ChapterTwenty-One

Saverio

The doorbell rings just as I’m fixing a mid-morning snack after a particularly strenuous physio session that knocked me back a whole day’s worth of calories and left my knee aching.

If the guards didn’t call to announce the visitor, it must be someone I know.

I make my way to the front door with the help of the crutches.When I look at the screen on the alarm panel, I clench my jaw.

While deactivating the alarm and opening the door, I count to ten.Mary Brennan, my mother-in-law, stands on the porch wearing a peachy smile and a flowery dress.Her hair is brushed, and her eyes are circled with thick blue eyeliner.

“Jesus Christ,” she exclaims with a hand on her heart.“You look as if your face has been through a blender.”

“Thanks,” I say, my smile wry.

At least she’s honest, unlike everyone else who avoids commenting on my rearranged features.

She scrunches up her forehead, leaning closer and studying me through squinted eyes.“Must hurt like a bitch.You’re lucky it’s only on the one side.”

My tone is brusque.“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my granddaughter,” she says, smiling wider.

All she manages to achieve with that fake smile is to look like one of those fucking scary dolls with the grimaces.

I look up and down the road.“How did you get here?”

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