Page 31 of Broken Deal

I’m the girl who always has a smile plastered on her face, even when I’m dying inside, because the last thing I want to show is the cracks of my heart.

I’m a lot of things—just not happy. And I’ve learned to accept that.

I havetrainedmyself to accept that.

Opening myself to someone is the opposite of that. I can mend my own heart and take care of myself. I don’t need a man. Much less one who doesn’t take love seriously. A reformed playboy is for fairytales. The type of love story you read in a good old romance book.

But the reality is so much more daunting than that.

Every time I sit at a poker table and feel the cool green surface under my fingertips, I get such a high of adrenaline. This is hands down my only favorite part of Vortex—the casino.

In the center of the room, a huge chandelier hangs above the raised platform where all the games take place. The rest of the room has lounges scattered all around, where guests can sit and relax with a drink if they choose not to play. The lighting is soft, casting a golden glow that makes everything a bit more magical.

“Mancini, fancy meeting you here,” Julian says sarcastically.

“Molina.” I nod curtly. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

A lot of people think I’m reckless with gambling and women. But Julian Molina? What I do is child’s play compared to him. To be fair, the guy is a twenty-eight-year-old billionaire living off his trust fund. His family owns Molina Media Group, the largest digital marketing agency in the world. His parents, born and raised in Puerto Rico, moved to the United States for a better life when they wereyoung. His father, the current CEO, worked tirelessly to get his MBA and build the company into the empire it is today. Julian is always the talk of the town. You can almost always find him in Ibiza or Greece, often plastered and getting himself into trouble. He’s often the talk in gossip columns, always seen with a model or on Cala Tarida beach, jumping into the ocean butt-ass naked—true story, by the way. It happened recently. He’s a god in the eyes of the media. They love to watch his every step, eagerly waiting for the inevitable trouble he’ll get into.

“Yeah, well, Daddy dearest is out of town, so I’m able to fucking breathe for a change,” he replies, amusement lacing his tone.

I raise an eyebrow. “What did you do now?”

Typically, when Julian is hanging around the streets of Chicago, it means his dad has a close eye on him because he did something he wasn’t supposed to do.

He shrugs casually. “Got arrested in Spain for public indecency.”

“Oh, Molina. You stupid motherfucker.”

“To be fair, I was very drunk and I needed to pee.” He laughs. “Come on, Mancini. Let’s play some poker.”

Before a response forms on my lips, Ivy approaches us. “Hello, gentlemen. Anything I can get you to drink?”

I frown. “They have you working up here today?”

“Yup. Elisa wasnothappy the other day, and now I’m stuck working here for the next two weeks.” She rolls her eyes. “At least the tips are still good. Now, can I get you two anything?”

“How about your number?” Julian asks.

Ivy looks at him with a scowl. “Will you ever give up?”

I laugh at her comment. Julian has been trying to get Ivy’s number since she started working here. The guy is ashameless flirt, but when it comes to her, I think he sees it more as a challenge since Ivy will bust his balls every chance she gets.

He leans forward in his chair, eating some of the distance between them. “Have you learned nothing? I will never give up, Ivelisse.”

She hits him on the shoulder, hissing. “Don’t call me by my full name. You know how much I hate it.”

“But why, Princesa?1? It’s cute.”

“Ay Dios mío?2,” she mutters under her breath. “I don’t know what I hate more—when you call me Ivelisse or when you call me Princesa.”

“Please.” He rolls his eyes with a knowing smirk. “Tú sabes que a ti te encanta cuando yo te llamo Princesa.?3”

She thins her lips for a moment. “Just for that, you can go get your own fucking drink.” She turns her head, looking at me. “Whiskey neat, yeah?”

I nod. “You already know it.”

She nods and walks away. Julian’s eyes shamelessly follow every single one of her movements.

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