Page 2 of Devious Kingpin
My eyes darted between him and the bags. “You… you don’t want them?”
He chuckled. “What am I going to do with Victoria’s Secret bags?” he mused as the smell of rain and damp forest mixed with the crispy winter air and filled my senses.
My cheeks heated when I realized what I was holding in my hands.
“It’s for my aunt.” Wynter and I wanted her to find someone, and this could be the first step. At least, that was whatCosmopolitanmagazine had told us. “I’m buying for my dad next, but I have money,” I mumbled, embarrassed. “I don’t have anything else to give you.” I drowned in his dark gaze. I had never seen such dark eyes. They were like obsidian pools of night.
“What makes you think I want something?” he asked curiously.
“Don’t all muggers want something?” I retorted.
He smiled, his eyes shining with amusement. They reminded me of the dark nights and beautiful nightmares.
“All right, then,” he agreed, amusement sparking his gaze. “How about…” He appeared to think as I held my breath. What could he possibly want? “Your hair scrunchie.”
I reached up to touch my ponytail. “My scrunchie?” I repeated, confused.
He grinned this time. “Yes. That way when I find you again and you’re older, you’ll remember that you owe me.”
“And if I don’t recognize you?” I wondered.
He smirked confidently. “Don’t worry, I’ll recognize you.”
This time, I smiled too. “So you’ll be like my shadow prince, stalker, or something?”
He nodded. “Or something,” he confirmed.
I pulled my hair band out, my mahogany strands cascading down my shoulders. He extended his hand and I dropped my hot-pink scrunchie into it, the bright color looking silly in his large palm.
“Thank you,” I murmured, offering him a big smile. “For saving me. One day, maybe I’ll be the one to save you.”
I wanted to return the favor and Dad taught me never to leave a debt unpaid. As he walked away, sadness lingered in my chest when I realized I had no way of knowing whether I’d ever see him again. I could only hold out hope.
CHAPTER1
Dante
EIGHT YEARS LATER
Royally Lucky Casino.
My brother, Christian, and I came up with the name. It should have been Royally Fucked-Up, but that name wouldn’t have attracted the crowds.
While the buzz of the casino was lively out there, here in my office, you couldn’t hear a thing. It was convenient for mybusinesstransactions, and for my sanity. I liked my quiet.
“Please,please, it’s a misunderstanding.” The words filling the room were desperate, the actions of the man speaking them even more so.
Locking eyes with my brother, I raised my drink and we clinked our glasses. “To last rites,” I announced.
My casino manager winced at my words. I didn’t need to look his way to know he had turned deathly pale. The fucking guy broke our two main rules.Never lie to us. And never fucking steal from us.
Both Priest—the nickname my brother had earned—and I downed our drinks in a single swig, then turned our attention to the pathetic man sitting in the chair and shaking from fear.
“Dante…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Please.” My name in his mouth pissed me off. It made me want to shove a whole apple down his throat. Begging wouldn’t do him any good. You forgave once, more would get the idea they could do the same shit. Not happening.
I shot a bored glance at my brother. “Do we like begging?”
Priest snickered. “Only from women.”
