Page 20 of Claimed By the Hitman: Codename Cupid

"They won't. Olympia needs to know how I got to you. How I knew that Ares was your next assignment. Information is leaking from the cracks, and they'll see an opportunity to plug those leaks by bringing me in alive. Say what you will about Olympia, but they are efficient. I still have value to them."

"Fine, I'm intrigued." I stare into the flames in his eyes like I'm looking into the depths of Hades’s lair. "So, what stops them from killing you after you told them how you found me?"

Alexei guides my face to his, wearing that same cocky, knowing smile that was plastered on his face outside that café in Paris.

"I'm going to tell themeverythingI know.”

CHAPTER 6

ALEXEI

Cupid’s days are numbered. It's been a good run, but there's only one thing I have left to do under this alias.

Rose doesn't like my plan, doesn't like that I'm the one who must surrender. As if I would ever put her in harm's way. That's not an option. There's only one way forward now, and I'm on the path.

"Hit," I said confidently, almost like a boast. "I know what's coming."

The steely-eyed dealer drops a card and exclaims, "Twenty-one!. Winner, winner, chicken dinner."

Everyone at the table erupts in celebration. Of course they do: they’re making money. All around us, the casino chimes and rings and tolls with hopes and dreams. Most of them will lose—the house always wins.

But sometimes, a lucky few manage to steal their fortunes.

When Rose said my plan was a gamble, I couldn't help but laugh. How poetic. But that's not why I chose Vegas as the location to carry it out.

I chose Sin City because there are more cameras here than anywhere in the country. The casinos are always looking for cheaters, and you can’t walk five feet on the floor without being scanned by some of the best facial-recognition software in the world. Facial recognition can be tricked, but I'm not playing any games. For two days, I've been hitting the tables in fine suits, drinking my fill, and raising my glass to the eyes in the sky.

I’m not hiding.

I’m throwing up the white flag.

So, I'm not surprised as two men fill into the empty seats at the blackjack table. Hunters recognize hunters, and I've been waiting for them.

One is a slender man who towers over everyone in his seat; he has eyes so dark that they seem to swallow light. His associate is ugly like a bulldog, scruffy and lumpy and gnarled. Both are wearing all black suits. The two men exchange cash for chips at our high roller’s table.

Hades and Cerberus have entered the game.

I breathe a sigh of relief. The first part of my gamble has paid off: if their orders were to kill, I'd already be dead.

"Having fun?" Hades asks, running his knife fingers through oily black hair. "Looks like you're on quite the run."

"I suppose I am." I lean back and toy with my stack of chips. "Was thinking of cashing out, though. Don't want to press my luck."

"A wise decision."

"Yeah," Cerberus grunts. "Game’s over."

The poor dealer doesn't know what to make of our cryptic conversation. "Your bets, Sirs?"

The two hunters grab their chips. "We're going to try another table.”

I smile, drop one chip into my shirt pocket, and slide the entire pile toward the dealer. "That's for you. Thanks for the game."

"Are you serious?" The dealer calls out in disbelief as I saunter off with my two new friends in tow.

I raise my hand to him without looking back. "All yours, kid."

The other players at the table clap and congratulate the dealer on his big bonus. Cerberus growls behind me, "Stop making a fucking scene."

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