Page 19 of One Kill

The tech systems here all seem pretty high standard. From the mics and earpieces on the croupiers, the cameras dotted around the huge space, and the two rounds of security to get inside, it’s a lot more than I’ve seen in the casino on the other side of the city.

From the research my own tech guy, Glitch, gathered, Zavier’s tech guy is a bit of an unknown, which is annoying as fuck. Glitch can find anything on anyone, and we have all we need on the rest of Zavier’s “employees”, but it seems this one is gonna take some more digging. Whoever it is, they seem to know what they’re doing.

“All in!” The tall, thin man in a dusty gray suit sitting at the poker table with me pushes his remaining poker chips into the center of the table with a smug grin in my direction.

We started the game with seven of us and I’ve gradually taken all their chips, leaving just the two of us. Going all in may sound like the move of a big boy who’s positive of a win, but calling him makes barely a dent in my own pile of chips. I’m also positive he’s been cheating, and the croupier is in on it. The fact that Zavier’s amazing tech guy hasn’t been able to pick up on it is just one reason they should’ve done this properly and included Marco. We have ways of vetting potential employees that would guarantee this wouldn’t happen.

“Call.” I casually push my own chips into the center of the table, giving absolutely fuck all away with my face.

There are still two cards left to come out, the turn and the river, but whatever they are, he won’t beat the straight flush I already have. The croupier deals the last two cards, revealing the three of clubs and the ace of spades. I remain still, motionless, because no more betting can be done—he has nothing left to bet with. It’s all down to these last cards in play.

“Ha. Four of a kind. Aces.” The cheating fuck lowers his cards, face-up, showing two aces, and the croupier is about to push the chips over to the thin man without even waiting to see what I have—he’s that sure he dealt this man the winning hand. Little does he know, in a casino like this, I never lose.

“Royal flush. Hearts.”

The croupier has trouble hiding his surprise and immediately pushes the chips in my direction instead of to the thin guy. Thin Guy, on the other hand, looks at me with disgust clear in his eyes as he stands from his stool.

“You cheated.” He points at me. I fucking hate it when people point at me. I don’t know what it is, it just irritates the shit out of me. Of course, I don’t let him see that.

“How so?” I tilt my head to the side and bat my lashes at him as I stack my chips in front of me.

This evening didn’t require me to be in a dress, thank fuck, but I’ve got to admit the black pants and white, wide-collared, button-up shirt I’m wearing do give off sexy vibes. Paired with my low-heeled boots, perfect for riding my baby, and some black kohl around my eyes, I’ve at least tried to fit in a little around here. That was part of the agreement Zavier and I came to. Marco could have his hand in this casino to a small extent, and I’d be allowed access to check in on things if I didn’t dress like a “biker bum”.

I almost punched him right in the throat when he came up with that idea in our meeting last week.

Marco isn’t one for making ridiculous deals like this with people, makes them feel like they have more power than they really do, but Marco wants a connection that Zavier has, so we’re in the business of keeping him happy. For now.

“You shouldn’t even be in here. This place is for men or whores. You’re neither. Unless you’re gonna come ride my dick while you give me my chips back.” Thin Guy moves toward me, standing directly in front of me. I remain sitting on the tall black-and-gold stool, glaring up at him, readying a poker chip to jam in this dude’s eye socket.

“I think you’ll find the lady won, Mr. Wright.” A warmth spreads across my neck and I know exactly who has just approached, slowly placing his hand on my shoulder. It isn’t for comfort; this is his way of telling me to stay seated and not kill the fucker in front of me.

“She cheated, Mr. Gallanos. Surely, she should be removed from the premises. This is outrageous.” Thin guy is spitting mad, and I almost laugh, but I’m currently concentrating on not breaking Zavier’s wrist for touching me.

“You know what they say about sore losers?” My index finger and thumb are barely an inch apart as an answer to my own question and I swear the guy is going to spontaneously combust right here. Small dick syndrome can be a touchy subject for men like this.

Zavier’s grip on my shoulder tightens, and oh no he fucking didn’t…

“What she means, Mr. Wright, is good game, well played—”

“No it fucking isn’t.” I turn to smirk at Zavier, and his hazel eyes bore into mine almost erotically. There’s a tension there, a seriousness that he wants me to pay attention to, and I know how to read a room. I take a deep breath, deciding this isn’t a battle I want to pick, and plaster on a sickly-sweet smile. “Good game, Mr. Wright. Well played.”

“Now hang o—”

One of the security guys appears almost from nowhere and begins leading Mr. Wright away. His protests are quickly cut off as he looks at the giant beast of a man showing him the way out. The croupier remains silent the whole time, presumably organizing a new deck for the next round of poker starting up in an hour.

“Get your fucking hand off me.” I speak under my breath, my teeth gritted, but I know Zavier can hear me because he chuckles and removes said hand.

“Always so feisty, Shadow. Are you like that in the bedroom?” He fake shudders. “Ooh, I hope you are.” He leans down to sniff my exposed neck. With my hair slicked back into a single french braid, he has easy access.

I roll my eyes and discreetly grab his dick behind me, keeping my eyes straight forward as I say my next words. “You’ll never find out, Gallanos. Step. The fuck. Back.”

His chuckle fills my eardrum and he pretends to bite my lobe, but he does step back and I loosen my grip on his now-hard dick, eventually letting go—it would have been a waste not to feel the whole thing.

“Would you care to join me in my office, Shadow?” Zavier holds a hand out to me to help me stand. “Carlos, can you take Ms. Shadow’s chips to the cage cashier and have them ready for her to pick up when she leaves? Thank you.” Without waiting for me to take his hand, Zavier grabs mine and pulls me up anyway.

This man has a thing about touching me and I’m trying to figure out if I like it or not. Mostly not.

It’s not a big deal, I don’t need the money, but having this particular croupier handling what’s mine doesn’t sit right with me. He’s liable to take it and fuck off, never to be seen again. Well… only because I’d find his ass, slice him open a few times, then find a fun way to dispose of his body.

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